25 Days After Negan
by Richonne Writing Network
Summary: Richonne Just Desserts is excited to announce we have gathered an amazing group of Richonne writers to bring to you 25 Days After Negan. This will be a Round Robin event where each writer will take a day and write a sequential flash fic about what will transpire in Rick and Michonne's lives after they're hit by devastation. This is spoiler free based on speculation and comic clues.
1. Day 1

**Day 1**  
 **By: blacklitchick**

 **(find more of BLC's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

The taste of the apple still lingered on her tongue. His lips were still imprinted down her body. The morning sunshine had ushered in the happiness of waking up in the arms of the man she loved. Now the night sky was the backdrop of the torture of not knowing if they'd live to see another day.

The palms of her hands stung from her nails digging in deep from her tightly balled fists. Her wrists burned from hours of being tied up in the back of that van. Her body yelled at her to relax, but her back was rigid as she stared down the madman threatening each of her family members with his barb wired bat. She wouldn't let him see her pain; her vulnerability. She wouldn't let him see the fear that was on the verge of boiling over. But she couldn't control the single tear that rolled down her cheek as he passed from her on to his next potential victim.

She could feel Rick and Carl. She could feel Rick crumbling and Carl's defiance just as strong as hers. Every instinct in her wanted to run to them, to protect them, but she knew her family was as good as dead if any of them moved. All the people lined up on the ground had teetered on the thin tightrope between living and dying countless times since the dead started walking, but this time felt different. This time felt as if it would change them forever.

She closed her eyes briefly as Negan continued his spiel. Her head filled with light as she saw herself laughing while playing that game on the tracks with Carl. She saw Rick looking deeply into her eyes as she promised to always be with him. She saw Judith on the floor playing with those red cups she loved so much. The thought of never holding that sweet little girl again or thinking up new games with Carl or never waking up in Rick's arms again gave her a new determination. She opened her eyes and held her back even straighter. They were going to make it out of there.

* * *

It was like waking up in that hospital all over again. The world as he knew it was gone, and he didn't know if he could survive the current landscape. Determination to find his family is what kept him going before, but now his family was right there and one or more of them was going to die because of him. They should have believed in anyone other than Rick Grimes.

The dirt below their kneeling forms blurred before him as his head hung low. He could hear Carl's steady breathing though he wouldn't dare look at the boy for fear of seeing his disappointment. Two years since the world ended and Carl had been through more than any kid should be allowed. He couldn't protect his children. He couldn't protect any of them.

He could feel Michonne only two bodies away from him. Her hair was still in his pocket. His mind had him convinced she was dead. When the Savior pulled her out of the van he couldn't breathe; feeling a mixture of relief and a deep fear that she was now a part of this too. He wanted to run to her and grab hold of her waist to let out all the pain that was on the verge of boiling over. But he knew he couldn't. Negan would kill them both. He didn't think much of his own life anymore, but the instincts to protect Michonne and his children were still buried somewhere deep inside him; underneath all of his regrets and failures.

He wished he would have hugged his little girl a few minutes longer before leaving Alexandria. He wished he would have told his son that losing an eye didn't make him a freak and he was still perfect in his father's eyes. He wished he would have told Michonne he loved her after he kissed her goodbye that morning. He wished -

The chorus of screams that cut into the dark sky muted his brain and everything faded to black.


	2. Day 2

**Day 2**  
 **By: dirtiebirdie17**

 **(find more of dirtiebirdie's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

The crushing silence that swallowed the makeshift waiting room afforded no repose. Michonne ached for the disruption of sound. Commotion. A distraction. Anything that would muffle the haunting screams that splintered her skin. Her body, battered, bloodied and reduced to a pile of nerves, should have been evidence enough that the horror of last night hadn't been the nightmarish conjurings of a fever-riddled mind, but it was the taunts of those phonic phantoms that reminded her of the devastating reality.

She willed herself to take a breath. Then another. If anyone had possessed the strength to lift their hung heads, she was sure they would have seen through her pathetic attempt to hold everything together.

Then there was Maggie. The hopelessness they all felt was an infinitesimal speck compared to the fear that surely coursed through every cell in her weakened body. Michonne prayed that Maggie and the life growing inside her would make it through this hell, but there was little room for optimism amidst the litany of other emotions swirling around her turbulent mind.

Carl, sprawled across her lap, had managed to keep the ghosts at bay with sleep, but she knew it was a temporary fix, like duct tape over a gaping hole, and that soon he'd have to face the demons again. As she unconsciously brushed his disheveled hair off his face, the steady rhythm comforting her more than him, he stirred from slumber.

"How's Maggie?", he inquired groggily as she continued to stroke his hair.

"We're still waiting," she rasped, having barely spoken in hours.

Carl sat up as the events of last night started to replay in his mind like some twisted horror movie stuck on repeat. He didn't speak as he stared at the few empty seats around them and wondered about his father; the painful feelings of rage and disappointment rearing their ugly head like they had after the prison had fallen.

"Where is he?" he asked finally; a condemnation more than a question. She sympathized with Carl and his need to blame someone, as if an accusation could somehow void the outcome of last night.

"He's outside," she hoped, trying with all of her might to stifle the tears that so desperately wanted to flow. "He..he needed-"

"Why didn't he do anything?" he cut in, the austerity behind his voice cooling the already drafty room. "He just..he just fell apart."

"Carl, you know him better than that," she sighed, laboring to expel every ounce of grief from her lungs. "He would do anything and has done everything to protect those he loves, especially you and your sister. And last night, the only choice he had was to do nothing."

"I hated seeing him like that," he admitted, the pain behind his icy stare now palpable. "It scared me."

"It scared me, too."

She knew Carl had grown accustomed to seeing his father in control, but last night Negan's perverse stunt had rendered them all utterly powerless, Rick devastatingly so. Carl nodded, still struggling to stave off the nightmares of that demonic game in the woods, but said nothing more. Now that Carl was up, and after he responded that he'd be alright without her for a few moments, Michonne headed for the door, desperate to check on Rick before she shattered into a million pieces.

She scanned the dimly illuminated grounds, determined to find him but apprehensive of what she might see. She didn't have to look far before she spotted him, hunched over against the trailer in a seemingly catatonic state. Michonne paused and took a deep breath before she approached, heartbroken by the drastic change she saw in him.

Rick appeared utterly defeated, every debilitated muscle in his body devoid of tensity as if he were just another walker left to rot. What a different man he had been twenty four hours ago; in command and confident in their bed, ready to take on the world. She wondered if she would ever see that man again.

She knelt down in front of him and held his hand, bringing it to her heart. She tried to lock eyes with him, patiently waiting for him to return her gaze, but his head was pulled down by the gravity of every mistake he had ever made. A member of his family was savagely taken from them, and in his mind, it was all his fault.

Michonne refused to leave him until he felt it in his core; that his pain was her pain, his guilt was her guilt, and she would never allow him to take on the burden of both alone. When it became brutally clear to her that Rick wouldn't face her, she cradled his tear-soaked face and whispered, "Look at me."

She could feel the weight of his anguish as he leaned into her; his exhausted heart terrified of all the shame and disappointment he would see behind her eyes if he granted her request.

"Rick, look at me, please." Her hands, lips, and voice all trembled as the fear of losing him to madness overwhelmed her. "Stay with me."

"I'm sorry," he cried, grasping at her shoulders for support, barely breathing as he choked on his tears. Even as the first traces of dawn crept upon the hill, he saw no end to this nightmare. He had led them all into the belly of the beast like some demented pied piper, and he couldn't see why any of them would ever trust him again, least of all Carl and Michonne. "I'm so sorry…"

She wanted to collapse in his arms and weep with him, but she knew he needed her strength and now was not the time to abandon it, even if she had to claw her way through the pretense.

"I need you to hear me." She lifted his face to meet hers, relentless in her mission for his eyes to do the same. He finally acquiesced, stirred by the warmth of her breath, and for an instant, Michonne saw a glimmer of the man she loved. "I'm with you. I'll always be with you."

Rick wanted to believe her, but he knew it was a promise no one could ever make with certainty. He recalled the unrelenting panic he felt when the saviors had taunted him with her possible death. He believed that he had lost her forever but seeing her now and the torment in her eyes, only pushed him further down the rabbit hole. He withdrew from her gaze, hating himself for his weakness, but she pulled him back, forbidding him to recoil into nothingness.

"I need you to stay with me," she whispered just as Aaron emerged from the trailer. He swallowed audibly, reluctant to intrude on what was clearly a private moment.

"Maggie still has a slight fever, but she's going to be alright," he said, realizing that her physical well being and her emotional one were two very different things.

"And the baby?" Michonne asked with a panic in her voice that cut through the early morning air.

"The doc says everything seems ok, as far he can tell."

Michonne heard Rick whimper as her own chest heaved a sigh of relief. As Aaron left to tell the rest of the survivors scattered throughout Hilltop, Rick brushed her arm and rasped, "You should go to her."

Michonne nodded reluctantly, wary of leaving him alone, and asked, "You still with me?"

He looked at her of his own accord, now reassured that she was still his anchor; the beacon of light in his abysmal darkness.

"Yeah," Rick promised, his voice barely audible, his eyes burning through his tears as she gently kissed his forehead. "I'm still with you."

Michonne, feeling the first traces of hope since what seemed like a lifetime ago, held his hand for as long as possible as she walked away. She took the long way back around the trailer for a few moments of solitude, leaning against its walls for support. Weakened and exhausted by the perpetual fight against despair, she slid down to her knees and sobbed, her heart unable to withstand the pressure of maintaining the facade any longer. She knew that someday they'd be ok. They had to be. But today was not that day.


	3. Day 3

**Day 3**

 **by 2violetflower15**

 **(find more of violet's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Michonne locked the front door and made sure that the porch light was on before she started the process of shutting the blinds on the windows. The meeting at the church had gone on later than they'd anticipated and Judith was already asleep when she and Rick had arrived at home. Michonne thanked Olivia for sitting with the fussy little one, whom she suspected was teething, and after filling Olivia in on the meeting details, she sent her home with a promise to stop by and see her before Negan and his people arrived in the ASZ tomorrow.

In the short amount of time that they'd been living in Alexandria, Michonne had gotten used to their home being filled with the incessant chatter of her newly formed family, but tonight the house was eerily quiet. With all the changes and tragedies they'd experienced in the last few weeks, their once boisterous home had been whittled down to just the four of them. Carl disappeared after he stormed out of the church, and Judith was upstairs, which left just Rick and Michonne; and he wasn't exactly in the mood for idle chit chat.

Michonne walked into the kitchen and wasn't surprised to find Rick slumped over at the table with his head in his hands. A small tumbler of some dark liquid, probably whiskey, filled his glass about half way and he rubbed the wet glass along the crease in his forehead. Michonne walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a small bottle of ibuprofen and shook out four little orange pills. "Here," she said quietly handing him the pills, "take these."

Rick looked up at her long enough to take the pills then turned his gaze back down to the table top. "Thanks," he mumbled, placing the pills in his mouth and washing them down with a large gulp of his drink.

She stood behind his chair and rubbed his shoulders with strong fingers. A low groan passed through his lips and she smiled at his delight. His neck was full of knots, a clear indication that Negan's upcoming visit was weighing on him heavily. But Negan was only part of his burden, she knew. He was upset about Carl. After the prison, he and Carl had been in an unstable place, but eventually things had gotten better between them. Now it looked like their relationship was even worse than before. Michonne hated seeing her boys so broken. It was something she'd hoped that she would never have to see again.

"You know," she started quietly, "I remember that day that we walked up to the fence at Terminus. I saw how you looked at Carl when he walked away from you, and I saw how he looked at you too. You were both so scared."

"Scared?" Rick scoffed and took another long swig of his drink. "What was there to be scared of?" His voice was quiet and calm, and if it wasn't for the way his jaw clenched, she wouldn't have known how upset he was.

"Oh, I don't know… maybe of not measuring up to expectations," she answered. "Of going too far. Of letting this world turn you into something you're not. Or worse," she stopped rubbing his shoulders and pulled out a chair to sit next to him, "maybe you were a little scared that this… thing you've become is really who you've been all along. That no matter who you thought you were before, you're really just some kind of monster, and that you always have been."

Rick exhaled and nodded his head in agreement, "Yeah, well…" His rough voice trailed off and he took another gulp from his glass. All this alcohol wasn't typical for him and Michonne worried that he would regret it tomorrow if he didn't slow down. She waited for him to continue his thought, but he just stared off into space, so she continued, quietly.

"I talked to him that day… when we went off together?" The words came out as a question but she didn't wait for him to answer. She knew that he was with her. "Carl sees himself as some kind of a monster. Or, at least he did. That's what he told me, that he's just another monster. He broke my heart that day. He'd just lost Lori, and then the prison fell. We thought Judith was gone… Herschel." Michonne's voice broke with emotion and she shook her head and cleared her throat to stop the tears that threatened to fall. "He was so angry, and hurt. And then, after what you did to those men…"

"I did what I did because -" Rick started, but Michonne cut him off.

"I know why you did it," she said with a firm look. "There's no judgement here Rick, not from me. You know that."

He nodded his head, and the two of them sat in silence. For a long while, the only sound was the clink of the ice cubes in the glass that Rick was holding. She watched as he tilted the glass from side to side, the brown liquid sloshing against the edges and each time coming precariously close to spilling, but never quite doing so. He raised the glass to his lips and downed the remaining bit of liquid in one sip. Michonne took the glass from his hand and placed it on the table between them.

"I'm worried about him," she admitted with a deep sigh. "I'm afraid that he's going to try to do something stupid and that he's going to get himself killed. He's smart and strong, I know… but he's young. And so angry."

"He should be angry. I let him down… again. I let everyone down," he said.

"You didn't let us down, Rick."

"Yes, I did. We lost one of our own. And I just stood in that church and told everyone we know, our family, that we're gonna have to bend our knees. To that fuckin' lunatic." Rick grabbed his glass and stood up from the table to pour himself another drink. He silently asked Michonne if she wanted one but she shook her head, declining his offer. A heavy silence sat between them and she watched as he leaned against the counter and took a long pull from his glass. "Carl called me a coward, right there, in front of the whole town. Maybe he's right, maybe I am a coward."

"Richard Grimes," Michonne pushed out of her chair and crossed to him, "you are the bravest man I know." Rick scoffed and took another sip and she remove the glass from his hand, setting it on the counter. "This isn't easy, Rick; living in this world. It's messy and dangerous. And everyone looks to you to get them through. Do you know why that is?"

"'Cause they're scared of me," he offered.

Michonne looked up into his eyes and was pleased to see the small glint that danced in the blue depths. "Yeah, I suppose some of them are. I'm starting to lose count of how many times I've seen you covered in someone else's blood." She stood on her toes and gave him a chaste kiss. "But no, that's not it."

He wrapped his hands around her waist in a loose embrace. "Why is it then?"

"Because," she said with a smile, "they're your family. And just like me, they know what family means to you. They know that family is why you almost turned me over to Philip. Why you did what you did by the train tracks that night. Why you killed Pete, why we killed those people at Negan's compound, all of it. They know that you'll stop at nothing to protect them because they are your family. They trust you and they are still with you. And you already know where I stand."

Rick tightened his hold on her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you," he said.

Michonne felt her heart skip a beat and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"What," he asked with the barest hint of a smile, "does that surprise you?"

"No, you've just never said it before." Her cheeks were warm and flushed and she found herself suddenly fighting the urge to grin like a teenage girl who'd just been asked to her first dance.

"Well, I do," he said.

"I love you too, Rick." Their lips met in a soft kiss that almost made Michonne forget about the events of the last few days.

The sound of the front door opening broke up their tender embrace. Carl entered the house in a huff and headed straight for the stairs.

"Carl," Rick called out, "you know not to stay out this late. Where were you?" Carl ignored the question and continued his ascent up the stairs. "Carl!" He shouted again, but the boy disappeared into his room without a word, slamming the door behind him. Rick sighed deeply; his defeat was a tangible presence in the room.

Rick's upper lip twitched as he fought back the grimace that wanted to break out on his face. Michonne frowned and cupped his cheek in her hand. "You're going to have to talk to him."

"Yeah," he sighed, "I know."

A single tear fell from the corner of his eye and she used the pad of her thumb to wipe it away. "But not tonight. We have a lot to do tomorrow. The guards are at their posts, we should try to get some sleep." Michonne took his hand in hers and together they headed towards the stairs, but she knew that sleep wouldn't find either of them any time soon.


	4. Day 4

**Day 4**

 **by Lyra Verse**

 **(find more of Lyra's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Open the gates," Rick rasped. His voice was thick and heavy with submission.

Standing on the constructed guard tower overlooking the walls of the ASZ, Rick could see the wolf standing at his door. The enemy that had shaken his group and himself to the core was standing there with his arms thrown open and a smug, casual grin on his face.

"Good to see ya," Negan greeted.

Sadly, Rick could say that Negan won. If Negan wanted Rick to dread and fear him every time he laid eyes on him or heard his voice, he won. If Negan wanted Rick to dream about that night and his failures ever since it happened – even during his waking hours – he won. If Negan wanted Rick to hate himself and feel like shit, he won.

Rick had never felt so hopeless or powerless in his life.

The skies were grey and threatened a heavy rain. Everyone could smell it in the air and the light sprinkling of moisture that already fell from the storm-burdened clouds hinted at what was to come. As the droplets began to grow more relentless, Rick's eyes found Michonne on the ground as the gates of the ASZ creaked open.

She was looking up at him as strong and silent as ever. He felt reassurance from her eyes, but he felt undeserving of reassurance. Even after her words from the night before, he couldn't understand why she wouldn't feel disappointed in him. Not when he felt so disappointed in himself.

Not when his own son could barely look at him.

Carl was standing right next to Michonne and the disappointment missing from his lover's eyes was all too apparent in the eyes of his son, whose gaze remained determinedly turned from his father's. He stared straight ahead, ready to face the threat that was being welcomed into his home.

When the gates were opened and Negan walked through them – boisterous and casually menacing – Rick made his way down the ladder of the guard tower. For the sake of his children, Michonne, and the rest of the people he loved, he hoped that their straw house could withstand the huffing and puffing of the greatest foe they had faced in a while.

The force with which Michonne bit her tongue to keep from lashing out caused her to be surprised that she didn't taste the tangy, copper-y taste of blood.

The hate she felt for Negan coursed fiercely through her entire being. It was a hate that rivaled what she felt for The Governor and surpassed it ten-fold. The night he killed one of their family so ruthlessly and mercilessly came back to her as he stood there taking joy in trying to humiliate Rick. She could see that it was taking every ounce of Rick's strength not to take an action based on emotion. She rooted for him to stay strong, as she was determined to do as well.

She was outwardly calm and determined not to let Negan's presence shake her or anger her. Because anger makes you stupid and stupid gets you killed.

The Savior lackeys were given their marching orders to go gather up the supplies of the ASZ and they went about their business like lines of worker ants. Worker ants who occasionally made rude, juvenile, and snide comments.

While they acted out their orders, Negan continued to tease. And it didn't take long for him to turn his attention to Carl and Michonne.

"I remember you," he said, walking towards Michonne. "You were giving me quite the eye the night we met." His eyes held the glint of a lion closing in on its prey. "I don't think we had a proper introduction," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Negan. You are-?"

'Not interested,' Michonne thought. "Michonne," she responded. She didn't shake his hand. She wouldn't let him know he rattled her, but she wasn't going to pretend to like him either.

"Michonne!" Negan exclaimed. "Mich-onne. I like that. It's a nice name. Not as good as Lucille…but a nice fuckin' name, all the same." He took the choice out of her taking his hand by reaching forward to grasp her hand in his on his own. He lifted it to his lips and grinned, preparing to kiss it. "May I?"

Michonne glimped Rick grasp the gun at his hip. 'Don't,' she thought, wishing she could mentally communicate with him. He couldn't read her mind, but he must have known acting hastily wouldn't be the smartest move. Rick refrained from taking action, but his expression was twisted into a mask of displeasure. He wasn't as good with masking his emotions as Michonne was, who kept her face expressionless at Negan's touch.

"Don't touch her," Carl piped up.

Michonne's stomach dropped and she, herself, tensed up when Negan turned from her to Carl. She hoped Negan didn't notice anything odd. For she was sure that if Negan found there to be a special relationship between herself, Rick, and Carl, he would use that to his advantage.

"Ahh~" Negan chuckled. He bent slightly to look into Carl's eyes. "I remember you as well. The kid with no fucking emotions."

He tweaked Carl's hat, causing the teen to scowl. "Let me ask you," he teased. "What will you do if I touch her anywhere and anyhow I want to?"

This time, Carl wasn't the only one to scowl. Michonne's scowl matched his.

"I'll kill you," Carl responded matter-of-factly. His eyes were sincere.

The small silence that followed was a tense one. Negan was taken aback, slightly surprsied. And Michonne held her breath, ready to strike out if Negan threatened the boy she had come to view as a son. She was touched that Carl was coming to her defense, but she would have to teach him to keep his cards closer to the vest from here on out.

Thankfully, Negan got some kind of amusement out of it and his lackeys had begun to return with the gathered supplies. Negan laughed. "I like you, kid. I think you got all the balls in the family." He turned over his shoulder with a smirk, knowing there was nothing Rick could do about the jab he had just taken at him.

The rain was falling heavily by the time Negan and his men completely exited the gates with their supplies. Rick's shoulders sagged and Michonne knew it wasn't due to the added weight of his wet clothes.

She waited until the gates closed again before she went to him. "Rick-"

"Please," he said. "Don't." He couldn't face her just yet. Not after this.

He walked past her and met Carl's eyes for the first time that day. He wished he didn't. What he saw in them made him feel even smaller. Carl shook his head, turned his back, and walked away. The Sheriff's hat that had become such an integral part of his wardrobe was swept off of his head by a gust of wind and fell onto the rain-soaked street. Where Carl left it.


	5. Day 5

**Day 5**

 **by queencoles**

 **(find more of queencoles writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Michonne sighed softly as she took one last lingering look at her friend, so small and fragile in her drug-induced slumber. In truth, Carol Peletier was anything but and Michonne was relying on that quiet strength to carry her friend through the grief that awaited her in the morning.

Quietly, she pulled the door closed behind her, noting that it had gotten significantly darker during her time spent in the nurse's quarters with Carol. The hallway was dimly lit and empty as she began the short journey down the to the teachers lounge that would serve as her room for the night. She used the solitude to process the events of the day.

A day that began with Morgan arriving at the safe zone's gates just minutes after dawn. The relief they felt upon learning Carol was alive was quickly replaced by a familiar trepidation that she was left alone in a community they did not know ran by a man with questionable authority.

Morgan had tried to assure them that Carol was safe. But if the past week had reminded them of anything it was that you are never safe.

So, after ensuring the ASZ's day to day tasks were well-manned and the children were taken care of in their absence she and Rick set off with Morgan to see The Kingdom for themselves.

The Kingdom was actually an abandoned high school, and its king was a former zookeeper named Ezekiel. A man as rambunctious and eclectic as they come, complete with his own tiger but otherwise an amiable person who revealed they all had a common enemy in Negan.

From there the day spiraled by in a blur of new faces and new information only end on the same bereavement that had haunted them every night for a week.

Telling Carol what happened that night in the woods had been the most dreaded part of the day. And when the time came Rick couldn't find the words to do so. Instead he apologized profusely before ultimately leaving Carol confused and Michonne to explain what happened without him.

Michonne couldn't blame him, these last few days had left Rick a broken man and she wasn't sure how much more he could take. Nor did she intend to wait around to find out. It was time for him to come back. And as she arrived in front of the door to their room for the night she had resolved herself to help him do just that.

"How is she?" The soft spoken question drifted to her once she entered the room.

Rick was hunched over on the bed, his eyes locked in a staring contest with the floor while his shoulders remained slumped in what was becoming a permanent slouch as he refused to make eye contact with her.

"Sleeping now," she replied, taking slow steps toward him.

Rick jerked his head in a stiff nod. "I'm sorry I left you in there," he whispered hoarsely. "I just couldn't…" his voice trailed off, heavy with contrition.

Michonne knelt before him, planting her hands on his knees as she stared up at him. "I'm going to tell you something and I need you to hear me," she said.

Rick inhaled a shaky breath but otherwise remained still so she continued. "You are not weak. You are not a coward. And what happened was not your fault."

"Michonne…"

"Listen to me, Rick," she interrupted with a terse shake of her head. "This world will push you to very brink of death. It will make you question your sanity, it will make you question your will to live. And it's not fair and it will never make sense." She leaned forward on her knees, lifting her hands to cup his bearded cheeks. "But we get to come back. We have to."

For the first time all evening he lifted his sullen gaze to meet hers as he admitted a his deepest fear to her. "What if I can't?"

Michonne pressed her forehead to his, never breaking eye contact. "That's not an option, baby."

"I don't know what to do here, Chonne. He knew every move we made and he beat us at every turn."

Michonne pulled back to fully look at him. "This isn't about what Negan did, or even what he took from us. This is about what we still have and making sure we do everything we can to hold on to it."

Rick scoffed. "So long as we give him half."

Michonne nodded once. "For now." When she noticed Rick's dubious expression she tried to reason with him differently. "Do you really think Carl is going to sit back and do nothing? Just allow Negan to take what he wants and go about his business? Is that what you expect any of us to do? Is that what you expect of yourself?"

Rick stared at her for a long minute, taking in what she said and knowing she was right. It wasn't in their nature to lie down and take dictation from anyone. But having been beaten so low into the ground it was harder than ever to bring himself up again.

"We can find a way. We will," Michonne assured him fervently.

Her words harkened back to a time that seemed so long ago and it stirred something in him that couldn't name. Maybe it was just her being there, her quiet confidence in him…in them, never wavering even he his had all but diminished. Either way, it caused a shift.

Rick reached for her, pulling her to sit on his lap. "You really believe that?"

Michonne nodded as she draped her arms over his shoulders, stroking the curls at the back of his neck. "I know where you are and I know you can't stay there. That dark place where you relive the tragedy thinking of all the things you've done wrong. There is a way out of this Rick, and we'll find it."

Her eyes burned with a conviction that surprised him. Encouraged him, as only she could do. There was a way out of it, they had survived too much for there not to be. So he returned her assurances with a nod as he held her close, using her confidence to supplement his own.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her.

Michonne shook her head. "Don't be sorry. Just come back to me and when you do we'll find a way to end this."

Rick nodded against her, so amazed at her patience with him. He didn't deserve it, he knew but she gave it in spades. Her patience, confidence, her resolution. Whatever he lacked, she had enough for the both them.

And then he lifted his head as the wheels inside began turning without warning, giving him a noticeable pause.

"What is it?" Michonne murmured softly, still running her fingers through his hair.

Rick looked at her with a burning in his bright blue eyes she had not seen since the morning this whole nightmare began. She pulled back to get a better look at him tilting her head in consideration.

"Rick?"

Rick blinked at her, his eyes giving way that there was something brewing underneath the surface. "We get to come back," he said as something had suddenly clicked with him.

Confused but also relieved to see this side of him, Michonne nodded. "Yeah…"

Rick leaned forward, capturing her lips in a soft but fervent kiss. He pulled back, looking at her with a familiar glint confidence from his former self. "I think I know how we can."


	6. Day 6

**Day 6**

 **by shipnation**

 **(find more of shipnation's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

The Kingdom was an impressive community to behold. No matter how unusual of a character Ezekiel was or how unconventional his political policies were, he created a safe community for his people, who for all intents and purposes were happy despite Negan bleeding them dry. It was here that they could build an army formidable enough to take on the Saviors. They had the space, but more importantly, the soldiers. An alliance between the ASZ, Hilltop and The Kingdom would give them enough manpower to dismantle Negan's hold on the communities. It was just a matter of pulling the trigger.

* * *

After a day of touring the grounds, talking to Ezekiel, Rick and Michonne retired to their temporary quarters. Tomorrow they will be travelling back home to relay the new information that was presented to them, and to come to a final decision about how to handle the Negan problem.

Rick wrapped his arm around Michonne's waist as she rested in his embrace, neither tired from their day, in fact, their minds busy with the preoccupations of what had been presented before them.

"There just might be enough people." Rick graveled, cutting through the quiet of their room.

He was still unsure if he wanted to get more people involved in his fight. Though Ezekiel was adamant about taking down Negan, Rick could not help but feel like this was his battle. It was personal. Negan made it personal. Inviting more people in this would just mean there would be more blood on his hands and Rick was not sure he was ready for that undertaking. His hands were enough red already.

Michonne sensing his apprehension, turned her body in his hold to view his face. His eyes cloudy with worry and doubt. Using the pad of her thumb, she traced the hard lines of his face. In them she felt every loss, every tough decision he had to make, every failure, but with each passing over she also felt him soften under her touch. His hurt was her hurt. His burden, her burden. His victories, those were her's too.

"Negan rules by fear. Not loyalty. People will fight given enough reason to." She continued to stroke the stubble on his cheek as he listened. "Our people? They did not rise up against insurmountable odds because they were scared, or that they were afraid of dying. They fought for a purpose. Everyone followed you into that RV and into that clearing for a purpose. A purpose they believed in."

Rick took a deep breath in anticipation of what Michonne would say next.

"They believe in Rick Grimes." With a light kiss on his lips, she finished her thought. "I do."

Michonne had a way of making him feel absolute. With just a few words all his misgivings seem small and insignificant. He could not imagine his life now without her. It was all the more reason to fight back. To make sure he protects what he loves.

"We're playing the long game, Rick. We have the resources. It's just a matter of what we do with them."

Rick nods in understanding, pulling her closer in his embrace. It wasn't enough to just accept this. And it would be a long game, but there was no way they could live their lives happily under the rule of a madman. That was not the world he was leaving for Judy. That was not the world Carl will grow up in. That is not what his family had died for. He just needed to make sure it was done right. Negan had known his every move even before he did. Rick would need inside information before he could even entertain an attack. They would have to buy time, gather intel. He just hoped that nothing else terrible happened in the meantime.

"So we're doing this?" It was less of a question and more of a confirmation.

Michonne lifted her head to view the man she loved, up for the task and whatever the future may bring. "We're doing this."


	7. Day 7

**Day 7**

 **by constablesmichonnes**

 **(find more of constablesmichonnes' writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

It didn't take long for Rick and Michonne to return home the next morning, but to Michonne, the ride had felt longer than ever. She had been fearful of the road and itching to see the ASZ again, to make sure that those inside were still unharmed by any possible surprises. She could tell that Rick had been plagued by the same worries as he drove, his knuckles clenched white against the steering wheel. The newest development of a possible solution to Negan's reign over them was still at the forefront of their minds, and while finally having a way out of this impossible situation gave them a small peace of mind, it did little to comfort the tension still left by fear.

To distract herself, Michonne brought her mind back to the idea that came to her head as she laid in bed earlier that morning. She remembered the small cylinder that was hidden away at their house, holding inside of it the last gift that Deanna had given to her. Before Negan had entered into their lives she had found herself idly glancing at it every now and then, but ultimately left it for another time. With Negan breathing down their backs she wouldn't even entertain the idea, but now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, it was all she could think about.

As soon as they entered their home Michonne went straight over to its hiding place, pulling the plans out and carefully looking them over instead of her usual skimming. She began to jot down ideas in her head and on paper, sorting out and prioritizing the most important elements and listing them in order of practicality. She had become so engrossed in her work that she did not notice Rick standing behind her, watching her in confusion.

"What are you doing?" Rick asked, coming to stand by her side and looking over her shoulder at the plans laid out on the table.

"It's Deanna's plans for Alexandria's expansion. I thought I could take time to work on it," Michonne responded, not looking up from the papers.

Rick turned his head quickly towards her, his face twisted up in a mixture of confusion and skepticism. "Really? Now?"

Michonne stopped her work and stood up fully, looking at him with full seriousness. "Why not now? It can still be done."

"With Negan and everything, it's too much. This isn't important right now."

"It may have taken a while but this place finally started to feel like home. Before Negan it felt like we could really live here. We can't let him take that from us."

Rick shook his head. "It's just not the right time."

"We have a plan for Negan and that plan will work. But we can't let that cloud over what makes us human. We can't go back to that place again." Thoughts of their time on the road filled his head. They had stripped themselves bare, giving the new world everything they had left to give in order to survive. "Rest in peace. Now get up and go to war." The world out there had beaten them down, but they had refused to give in, even if it meant throwing away hopes of actually living beyond mere survival.

When they first came to the ASZ, it had been hard to come back from that, especially for him. But they had, and now as this new world threatened to try and break them again, Rick couldn't help but feel himself ready to cast away anything that made him alive inside if it meant taking down Negan and getting to see another day.

"Michonne."

"Rick," she parroted with emphasis and placed her hand on his shoulder, her eyes never moving from his, "we can do this."

He had seen this look in her eyes before, back when she convinced him to head towards Washington. That determined gleam that tried to hide the desperation in her voice. She needed this. They needed this. Working towards a better life for them, for all of them, has helped anchor her just as much as having her, Carl, and Judith in his life has helped anchor him. They all needed to stay grounded, to remember why it's important that they fight beyond just revenge and survival.

And yet, he was still hesitant.

As if reading his mind, she continued, "We've been through so much, and it's still not even over yet. We deserve happiness."

He heart ached at her words as memories of what they had been through flashed through his head. He wanted better for them, so much better, and they deserved the right to focus on thoughts of a peaceful future, a future where they could expand and live a life even better than before that awful night. He was afraid though. He refused to allow himself to think of such things, not when the world outside was breaking him down and threatening to take away everything he held dear.

He wanted to look into her deep brown eyes, so tired yet so vibrant, and tell her that he could push away his fears and give in but he couldn't. He knew though that this would be good for her, for them, for everyone, and that even though he can't bring himself to let his guard down and fill his head with such thoughts, he would have her and their family here, reminding him of what they could have, of what this place could be, and how much he wanted to work for that despite everything.

Pulling her into a gentle embrace, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, a hint of a smile on his face as he nodded his head and said, "Okay".


	8. Day 8

**By: blacklitchick**

 **(find more of BLC's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

The first boom of thunder masked the tires skidding as the car came to an abrupt stop. The second boom coincided with both doors of the sedan opening as Rick and Michonne jumped out with their weapons drawn. A picture perfect bolt of lightning split the sky in half illuminating the cluster of walkers - in their slow gait - as they invaded into the broken fences that surrounded Hilltop. The people of the community couldn't be called fighters, but they held weapons in hands as they readied to defend their home. Jesus moved first to fight off a pair of walkers coming at him. When several heads started rolling towards his feet and others exploded around him he breathe a quick sigh of relief as he saw his two warrior friends rush around the corner. Rick and Michonne were in pure battle mode as they worked together to slay the walkers in their path. The odds were now stacked in Hilltop's favor to stop the dead from overtaking their home.

* * *

The rain had subsided, but the ground was still moist. Hundreds of muddy footprints surrounded the community. Most were from the dead walkers who were laid out around the property. Some of the Hilltop residents worked to drag the bodies to the empty field on the east side of the property. Others worked on repairing the broken fences.

Michonne wiped her hands on her jeans as she exited the downstairs bathroom and stepped onto the porch of the main house. She looked over her shoulder to see Gregory shake his head at her before closing the door to his office. He wasn't happy she went inside after getting dirty fighting the walkers, but she wasn't concerned with his feelings when she rushed in. She had been determined to make sure no walkers had infiltrated the house where Maggie was still on bedrest to combat her high risk pregnancy.

Jesus was sitting on the steps but stood when he saw Michonne. She nodded at him then searched the yard for Rick. Her eyes landed on him at the fence helping with the repair. He was in his element commanding the people on the proper way to secure the community.

"Are you sure we shouldn't tell Gregory?" Jesus voice was soft as he moved closer to Michonne. He wanted to continue the conversation they started before she left to get cleaned up.

She nodded. "I am." She watched Rick for a few more moments then turned to Jesus. "I know he's the leader here but - "

Jesus raised his hands. "Trust me I know better than anyone that's Gregory isn't the best at leading. I'm just want to leave no room for mistakes."

She turned to face him fully. "Do you think it's a mistake not telling?"

Jesus thought a moment then sighed. "No. I can't really say I trust the man fully either. Gregory's a coward. He hid in the house when we were fighting the walkers. Can't exactly rely on him to help take down Negan. Rick's plan is solid, but Gregory won't go for it. We need to keep him in the dark."

Michonne nodded again. "So we're on the same page."

"We are. I owe you and Rick my debt anyway. If you guys hadn't showed up those walkers would have gotten the best of us."

"Don't sell yourself short. You guys were handling things, but I'm glad we were here too. We didn't have plans to leave Alexandria today, but circumstances decided otherwise."

Jesus nodded and scratched at his beard. "Those surprise visits from the Saviors can be a lot. Just when you think you have enough supplies to make it to the next visit, they pop up and take even more. Can be quite the downer."

Michonne looked over at Rick again. "That it can be."

"Did they tell you Negan said to kill one of your people if you didn't give them more of your supplies?"

Michonne nearly laughed, but she raised an eyebrow at Jesus instead. "I guess they don't stray much from the script."

"No. Negan thinks this is his world. There's a certain way he wants things to go. He's not one for improvisation from other people."

Michonne looked at the upstairs window where Maggie slept and bit her lip to try to keep the emotional pain at bay. "Learned that all too well."

Jesus followed the path of her eyes. "Were you able to talk to Maggie?"

Michonne shook her head. "She was sleeping. She missed out on all of the chaos, thankfully. I don't think she can handle any more stress. I'll come back in a few days to see her."

"Harlan's a great doctor. Maggie's in good hands here."

"I know, and I'm grateful." She looked up at the now cloudless sky. "We need to start heading home. Don't want to be out after dark." She started down the steps then turned back to him. "Some quick advice. Burn those walker bodies sooner than later. The smell is going to get overpowering soon."

"Roger that." Jesus placed his hand on Michonne's shoulder. "See you guys soon and thanks again."

Michonne looked at this hand, patted it, then smiled back up at him. "Anytime."

Rick was finished with his fence duties by the time Michonne made her way over to him. She pointed at the blood stains on his shirt. "I can't take you anywhere without getting into a fight."

He chuckled. "At least it's just walker blood this time." He sat on the hood of their car that was parked just inside the community. He scratched at his eyebrow and stared off to where the walkers were piled up.

Michonne slid onto the hood next him. "Whatcha thinking about?"

"How it always rains when the Saviors come take our shit. How Carl always looks at me in disgust when they do. I actually woke up this morning in a decent mood. Then that surprise visit happened…"

Michonne rubbed his back. "Carl is mature beyond his years, but at the same time he's still the kid he was when this all started. He can't grasp the compromise adults had to do everyday before the world changed. This is an extreme version of putting up with a crappy boss. You need to talk to him. Explain the plan and why we need to lay low."

"I keep trying to, but maybe I really am a coward. I can't face him looking at me like that. There's no worse feeling than your son being disappointed in you." The lines around his mouth became prominent as he frowned.

Michonne looked down for a moment. She opened her mouth to say something then shook her head and gestured to the trunk of the car instead. "We found some good things on our impromptu run to replace what they took. It's not all bad. Let's go home and have a nice dinner with the kids. Then we can take a long, hot shower and get some much needed sleep. Tomorrow is a new day where we'll be one step closer to ending all of this."

Rick smiled and nodded. "OK." He hopped off the hood and dangled the car keys in front of her. "You want to drive?"

She smiled back and took the keys. "You know it."

They gave one last wave to Jesus then drove out of Hilltop onto the deserted road. The two road in silence until Rick grabbed her knee and started rubbing in a circular motion with his thumb. She spared a glance over at him. He was watching her with a look on his face she couldn't decipher.

"What?" she asked.

"How do you do it?"

Her face contorted in confusion. "Do what?"

"Constantly make sure I don't drown in despair. Making me see what we're fighting for."

Michonne placed her own hand over his that was still resting on her knee. "I do it because I believe in you and I love you. You know that. When I say I'm still with you it's not just lip service. I mean it every single time."

Rick clasped their hands together before leaning over to kiss her cheek. "And that makes me the luckiest man in this new world."

They drove the rest of the way back in content silence with Rick still holding onto her hand. Both immediately knew something was wrong when they pulled through the gates. Father Gabriel looked scared and worried as he held tightly onto Judith.

"It's Carl," Gabe said as they exited the car. He handed Rick a note.

The vein in Rick's forehead bulged as he read the words on the paper. His tanned skin couldn't hide the red flush of anger. He balled up the paper and threw it to the ground with so much force it nearly bounced.

"What is it?" Michonne asked; her voice etched with worry.

Rick gritted his teeth and looked up to the sky as light rain started falling again. "Carl went after Negan."


	9. Day 9

**Day 9**

 **by 2violetflower15**

 **(find more of violet's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Carl walked through the open door and scanned the room for a hiding place. A pillar stood twenty feet away and he dashed behind it. A bead of sweat dripped down his face and into his good eye. He wiped it away with a steady hand and sneaked a quick glance around the post.

Negan stood at the front of the room with Lucille in hand. The large crowd of people all took to the floor, kneeling before him. The sight brought back memories that made Carl's stomach turn. The sounds of his family members screaming in the dark still haunted him when he slept at night.

There would be no rest; not until Negan was dead.

The boy stiffened his spine and raised his Beretta. His target was in the front of the room, going on about respect and consequences.

 _Poetic_.

He fingered the grip of his gun and took aim. A woman stood between him and a clear shot. He considered firing anyway, but her long, dark braids reminded him of Michonne. He shook away the thought and focused on the task at hand.

"Come on you bastard," he muttered, " _move_."

As if he'd heard Carl's command, Negan took three steps to the left and opened a clear path. Carl placed his finger on the trigger and was about to pull when he felt a sharp pain on the top of his head.

And then the room went dark.

* * *

 _I won't let Negan hurt another member of our family, ever again._

The words in Carl's letter played over and over in his mind. Like a record stuck on repeat, angry and loud, unrelenting.

 _I'm going to find him and kill him._

"He's going to do what I can't," Rick whispered to himself.

"What's that?"

Rick turned his gaze to Michonne who was behind the wheel. They'd been out on the road looking for Carl all night long, and were back at it again early this morning. She'd been doing such a good job of holding it together, mostly because he was so busy falling apart, but her worry for Carl had obviously taken its toll. Her shoulders sagged and her eyes were dull. She looked tired.

"I said: he's doing what I can't," he spoke up, "going after Negan." Rick turned his gaze back out to the windshield, searching for something. Anything. "He's brave, you gotta give him that much. Maybe he's Shane's son too."

"Rick!" Michonne scolded. It was just one word, but it was the only word needed. She'd used that same tone on Carl many times before. "He's being an idiot," Michonne continued.

"Yeah," Rick sighed, "just like his dad."

Their eyes met and Michonne gave him a sad smile before she turned back to the road. "I don't know how much more of this I can take," she said. "I'm scared, Rick."

"Me too." His hand found her knee, just like it did the night before. "He's gonna be ok."

Just then a loud bang rang through the air, followed by another, and then many more.

"Michonne, gunshots!"

"I'm on it."

Michonne pulled off to the side of the road and Rick was out of the car before it stopped moving. They ran into the woods towards the sound of the gunshots. Rick's heart was pounding in his chest. His mind was racing with images of his son hurt and bleeding. He ran harder and faster, keeping an eye out for anyone lurking in the shadows. Michonne was right by his side.

They came to a small clearing and saw Heath and Tara crouched behind a large boulder. Their guns were raised and aimed at a woman who was shooting right back at them. Rick caught Michonne's eyes.

"Savior?" Michonne asked.

"I'd bet…" Rick responded.

"She can lead us to the sanctuary," Michonne reasoned.

Rick nodded, "Exactly."

"I got her. Cover me."

Michonne set off towards the woman and Rick edged closer to the boulder. Tara turned in his direction and they made eye contact. He held a finger to his lips and then pointed in Michonne's direction. Tara looked where he pointed and then turned back to him. She nodded in understanding and whispered the plan to Heath, who was exchanging gunfire with the suspected savior. All three of them trained their weapons on the woman and waited for Michonne to make her move.

Suddenly Michonne emerged from the woods and attacked the woman from behind. Within seconds the samurai had the woman on her stomach with her spindly arms secured behind her back. Rick noticed that Michonne still had her sword sheathed and her gun holstered. _That's my girl_ , he thought with a small smile.

Tara and Heath came out from behind the boulder and Rick ran over to Michonne who was now kneeling with her knee in the woman's back. He touched her arm lightly before squatting to address the woman lying on the ground.

"We have some questions, and I think you're the one who is gonna give us the answers." Rick cocked his gun and placed it against the woman's head. "Where's the sanctuary?"

The sound of several guns cocking caught everyone's attention. At least ten men had them surrounded, all of them with guns drawn.

"Well," a man Rick recognized as a Savior spoke up, "what have we here? If it isn't Negan's little bitch, Rick." He raised his gun and pointed it at Rick's head. "Drop your weapon, bitch."

"I'm not dropping shit," Rick spat out.

"Don't you ever learn boy?" The Savior laughed a dry humorless chuckle, "You can't win." He leaned in to Rick and whispered, tauntingly, "We've got your son."


	10. Day 10

**Day 10  
**

 **by iminyjo**

 **(find more of iminyjo's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

It was the early hours of dawn when they pulled off the road closing in on the Sanctuary and the place where they were keeping Carl. They would have to make the rest of the journey on foot, the Saviors told them then.

It disgusted Michonne to even call them that in her mind. They didn't "save" anyone but themselves. They were predators, parasites intent on destroying everything she and Rick and the rest of their people were trying to build. Michonne tried to keep her temper under control as they pushed their way through the trees, brush and bramble.

She looked at Rick. He seemed steady, which was good. She was going to need him thinking today, strategizing. She knew when things involved his family, particularly his children, he sometimes led with his heart instead of his head. Today was going to test the patience of Job and they both needed to be absolutely rock-steady to get Carl back.

The trail was over-grown and craggy with little evidence that people had been that way before.

Michonne found that odd.

 _Maybe that's how they managed to keep their location a secret from their enemies_ , she supposed.

On a slight incline made slick by morning dew, Tara slipped a step, tweaking her ankle. Heath reached out and caught her arm before she hit the ground. They paused for her to regain her footing.

"Tara?" Rick queried, obviously irritated with the whole journey.

"I'm fine." Tara nodded then thanked Heath for his assistance quietly.

Michonne was happy they had come along. Despite their early misgivings about one another, Heath had proven himself to be an asset to the group. She supposed his friendship with Tara, forged during their two-week run together, had helped that along. Looking at them now, Michonne felt confident that they were the right people to help her keep the peace with Negan if Rick and Carl couldn't or wouldn't.

Rick looked back at her from his place in the group, two paces ahead.

"You good?" He checked in.

"Yeah, just wondering where this place is." Michonne looked up and around at the dense pack of trees. It could be very easy to get lost and hurt out here alone. Once again, she hoped Carl was alright.

In the end, it was a short trip. On the whole, maybe fifteen minutes on foot. When they got there, however, they saw cars and trucks lined up along the perimeter fence.

Rick turned to look at lead Savior accusingly. "Why did we have to walk? Our cars could have made the trip."

The female Savior Michonne caught earlier snickered like a grade-school child.

"I just thought you all could use the exercise. Especially her." He looked at Tara.

Rick's face darkened. Michonne felt distinctly how it could be all downhill from now on in. She looked at Heath and Tara and shook her head. Thankfully, they seemed more surprised than anything at the turn of events.

One Savior whistled while another beat on the heavy gate attached to a chain-linked fence that surrounded the compound. After a moment, it slid open.

As they walked into the Sanctuary, the Savior turned on them.

"You wait here," He directed.

They obeyed, looking around. There wasn't much else to do anyway. The place was ugly, concrete and metal housing, little better than the Prison she and Rick used to call home. It certainly wasn't the expansive space, manicured lawns and expertly landscaped architecture of Alexandria -but few things were anymore. Michonne conceded that fact in her mind. Anyway, it appropriately served its function, to house criminals, degenerates and those subjugated by them.

She looked over at Rick. She could feel his tension radiating from him as he stood, one hand on the hilt of his Colt, the other on his hip.

"I'm not gonna have to take that from you am I, Big Boy?" A female Savior appeared on Michonne's right, cradling a rifle. With short brown hair, big brown eyes and a heart-shaped face, under different circumstances the woman could have been attractive. Michonne straightened to her full height and regarded the woman sternly.

She wasn't about to make the tactical mistake of laying claim to Rick in front of the Saviors but she also wasn't going to be pleased to watch some woman trying to aggressively flirt either. Just then, a man, seemingly the woman's complement, appeared to Rick's left. There would be no time for that after all. They looked around and realized, there were Saviors appearing from every side. By the end, nearly a dozen more had appeared.

 _Their leader must be coming_ , Michonne thought. She exchanged a glance with Rick that indicated he came to the same conclusion simultaneously. She braced herself.

"Looky here, Looky here, three times in one week!" Negan appeared, strolling down the pathway from further in the sanctuary with a big grin on his face as if he were genuinely happy to see them. Some of the Saviors parted, stepping back and out of his way almost reverently as he passed them.

"Howdy Neighbor!" Negan gave them a little wave with the hand that wasn't holding Lucille over his shoulder.

"Hi Neighbor," He said again and chuckled when he got no response from them. "You remember that show? Damn old creepy dude and his fuckin' sweaters. Shhiiit, I used to hate that goddamn show. Kid brother watched it. Ugh. Him and his imaginary friends. Dude seemed like a classic fuckin' pedophile to me and there people were, plunking their kids down in front of him every day."

"Oh, hey there, you." Negan turned and said suddenly to Michonne, catching her off-guard.

She just looked at him silently, trying to control her scowl.

"I'm just gonna keep on tryin'," Negan shook his finger at her lack of response and sighed. "Anyway, speaking of fuckin' creepy people, I guess you're here to pick up the Night Stalker, right?"

Rick had been squinting; Michonne could tell, struggling valiantly to keep a hold on his temper. Now was going to be the test.

"I don't want any trouble, we just came for Carl." Rick said as deferentially as he could manage through gritted teeth. Michonne was proud.

Negan smiled.

"That his name? Carl? Hmm, Carl." He enunciated as if rolling the name around on his tongue for taste.

Michonne found the silence as they waited, indulging this man, almost as unbearable as she was certain Rick did. She watched his jaw clench and unclench as Rick chewed and swallowed all the things he wanted to say.

"You know what's interesting? Some people might be concerned, might think 'I gotta get this kid some professional help' – I mean if that was possible anymore," Negan spoke to his people as much as he was speaking to Rick and their group. Michonne could tell he fancied himself an orator. "But not you. Uh-uh, I can tell. You looked at that boy, Son of Rick, and you said 'I'm doing a _great_ job!'"

Negan moved closer to Tara and spoke to her directly. "See, I called him 'Son of Rick', kinda like 'Son of Sam', you know? 'Cuz he just kinda creeps you out."

Tara looked at him blankly.

"So, you're all a little like that, huh?" He said then looked them each over with another sigh. "Whatever. Jules, bring out the body."

Rick's eyes widened. Michonne's whole body tensed involuntarily.

" _Oh yeah_ , I mean you didn't think I'd let some little snot break into my humble abode, try to kill me and then I'd just give him a little smack on the nose like a bad dog, did you?"

Before anyone could blink, Rick lunged for Negan but the three Saviors closest to him immediately caught him by the arms pulling him backward. In the same amount of time, Michonne had drawn her katana ready to take their arms off at the shoulders and let the chips fall where they may. Tara and Heath had their guns drawn and trained on Negan as other guns were on them. It was a real Mexican standoff.

"Oooh, I _need_ a cool sword." The woman with the rifle said calmly, with the gun leveled at Michonne's temple.

Michonne froze with her arms already on the upswing. Just at that moment behind Negan, Carl appeared. He was very much alive and looking no worse for wear. He did look very angry though, scowling behind his eye bandage as Negan's men held him. It appeared he had not been mistreated. At Negan's word, they dragged him forward roughly but without hurting him.

"Okay, okay, that was fun! Everybody back to their corners now." Negan declared, laughing heartily. He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. His people lowered their guns as Tara and Heath slowly did likewise.

Rick pulled himself harshly out of the grip of the group that held him as Negan continued chuckling.

"That's smart." The woman whispered to Michonne as she released her two-handed grip on her katana, letting it rest at her side in her right hand.

"Woo-boy, you should have seen your face!" Negan pantomimed hitting a home run out of the park with Lucille. "Why do you keep making this so easy for me, Rick, huh?"

"Listen," He continued and with a nod of his head the men that held Carl released him, giving him a hard shove toward his father. "I like your kid. I truly do. Night Stalker's a cool customer. I even dig what you're doing with him. I'd imagine most of the serial killers of the world are dead now, so, you know, good on you for bringing the tradition back single-handedly…"

Negan's face went perfectly serious. He glared at Rick, all the humor and mirth of a moment before suddenly gone. "…But if he EVER sneaks into _my_ house and tries any shit like that again…like or no like, I'll kill the little bastard dead. Ya got it?"

Rick glowered at him but remained silent.

"I figure after your little trek here, you'll know your way out." Negan said then, turning and walking away as if he'd dismissed them.

They watched until his figure was swallowed up by his followers trailing behind.

Michonne looked from Carl to Rick, both wearing identical murderous expressions and prayed that they would all be ready when this came inevitably to a head.


	11. Chapter 11

**Day 11**

 **by constablemichonnes**

 **(find more of constablesmichonnes' writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

The light of the day had begun to wane as the early evening set in. It had taken them a good portion of the day to return to the ASZ and even longer to collect and reorganize themselves after the events of the day. After cleaning up and checking Carl over to make sure that the boy was not physically harmed in any way, Rick had sat his son down and asked him to tell him what he saw and what Negan had done to him inside The Sanctuary.

Carl recounted everything to Rick, not once looking directly at him, and Rick calmly accepted every detail, having grown accustomed to Carl's coldness towards even though it still hurt to see. Once Carl finished, Rick responded by letting Carl know the details of the plan they had been working on. As he finished his explanation, Rick leaned back against the dining room chair, studying Carl's face for a reaction.

"So that's the plan?" Carl said, his expression giving no hint to what he was thinking.

"That's it," Rick replied, his hands stretching out against the table, "Something wrong?"

Carl continued staring at the table intently before glancing up upward. "No. It's a good plan."

Rick shook his head in acknowledgment before moving his chair closer to his son, his voice growing soft yet still firm. "You know that's not the only reason I needed to talk to you."

"I know what I did was stupid, but I couldn't help it. I was tired of standing around doing nothing. That wasn't going to help anyone." Carl lifted his face to fully see his father now, but his eyes still refused to meet Rick's as he spoke in a harsh voice.

"I understand how you feel Carl. I know this situation feels hopeless, but don't you ever do something like that again." Rick's voice steadily began to grow louder as he continued. "We need to remain in control of what we have, and that includes our heads. You came close to dying tonight and if he had actually killed you, I would have lost it too and that also helps no one," Rick responded, his voice rising to be as equally harsh.

Carl sighed, "I know, I know."

"I know you know, but what's important is remembering it when it matters." Rick said while jabbing his finger at the table for emphasis.

"Okay." Carl said in a resigned voice, slightly nodding his head. Minutes passed as neither of them said anything, Carl looking as if he were debating what to say next and Rick remaining silent to allow him room to speak. Finally, Carl spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I wish I had killed him."

"Excuse me?"

"I wish I had killed him," he said, raising his voice, "I could have done it you know, I had the chance."

"Carl-"

"For a split-second I had a clear shot. I could have looked right into his face as he died." The young boy's face hardened as he spoke and Rick could tell that he had been picturing the gruesome scene inside his head and was regretting that it was not a reality. He did not respond as a sudden wave of guilt crashed over him. Carl only felt this way because of Rick's own failure to act, and above all, he learned how to be this way from seeing him. Carl's anger was another consequence of his actions and while he knew that he was in no position to set his son on a better path, something had to be done soon, before the boy became a mirror of his own uncontrolled anger and blood-lust.

—-

"Rick should have made a better deal." Spencer's voice startled Michonne out of her thoughts. She turned to him, her eyes wide. They had been on watch duty at the gate together for a good portion of the night, and the young man had barely spoken a word to her the entire time.

"Excuse me?" She responded, her voice slightly cracked in surprise. She was still thrown not only by the sound of his voice but what he said as well.

"He should have made a better deal with Negan." Michonne could see the hidden anger in his stance, the way he clenched his gun closer to him, his chin sticking out as he held his head high. "Look at us, we barely had enough supplies before this mess. We can't keep giving to him or we'll have nothing left for us."

She closed her eyes, sighing deeply before responding, "There was nothing to negotiate. This wasn't a willing deal, Spencer. We were forced into this."

"Willing or not there must be something that we can do. Anything is better than this," he said, his voice growing slightly louder as he swung his right arm out, gesturing towards the community.

Michonne tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. "Is death better?"

Spencer ignored her comeback, his eyebrows dropping in annoyance as he continued, "We won't be able to survive like this much longer. Negan will keep taking from us until we have nothing left."

Michonne shook her head. "You weren't there, you don't get it. Rick is doing the best he can given the situation. No one else could have done better."

"It's not enough," he said, his voice rising yet again before he dropped his head down and sighed, his eyes looking directly into hers, "I know you can understand where I'm coming from Michonne."

"I understand your worry, but nothing else. After everything that's happened, you should have more faith in Rick, and in me." She knew that was a low blow, using his departed family against him, but nonetheless it was something he needed to hear. Deanna had put her faith in Michonne and Rick to make this place better and even when she stood on death's door she believed in their leadership, despite everything that had happened telling her otherwise.

Michonne stiffened as she saw Spencer jerk back as if she had slapped him, the anger spreading across his face followed quickly by grief, hardening his soft features. However, he didn't respond to her and simply turned back towards the gate, his grip on his gun tightening and loosening as if he were clenching his fists.

"Look, the last thing we need right now is to fight amongst ourselves. It will work out, I promise," she said while taking a tentative step towards him, her eyes never leaving his face.

Spencer remained silent, staring out into the night.


	12. Chapter 12

**Day 12**

 **by pennylane714**

 **(find more of pennylane714 writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Opening the front door of his home, Rick made his way upstairs, calling out for Michonne. He'd been out and about looking for her with no luck. After Carl's recent disappearing act, Rick had made it his mission to keep his loved ones in his sights…as much as possible, anyway. He walked into their bedroom, startled to find Michonne curled up in a ball crying.

Rushing in, Rick climbed in bed beside her.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he questioned, gentling rubbing her back.

Michonne sniffled, refusing to face him. "I'm fine. Have you thought anymore about how to handle Spencer? Last thing we need is him trying to stir up trouble."

"I don't care about Spencer," Rick scoffed. "What's going on?"

"I'm just stressed, Rick. It's nothing…just…I'm fine." It was obvious she was far from fine but Rick didn't want to push her.

"It's stupid," she admonished. "Shit happens. People die. That's how it is."

"It's not stupid, 'Chonne…it's not," Rick assured her, embracing her from behind.

Michonne had spent so much time being his rock, his constant. She'd held him and the others up while deep down she'd been falling apart.

Michonne had always seemed stoic, keeping them focused on the task at hand. Rick wondered if this was the first time she had gone off on her own to mourn in private.

Rick wrapped his arms tighter around her body, nuzzling the back of her neck. It felt as if she was still holding back, trying to compose herself. She needed to let it go.

"You don't have to be strong, Michonne. You don't. I got you," he whispered against her. "It's okay."

"I really should be used to this kind loss. This is the world now," Michonne murmured.

"The worst thing that could happen to me has already happened. Seems like everything would be easier at this point. But it's not…"

 _The worst thing that could happen,_ Rick wondered. What was the worst… _Oh…god._

As if Michonne could read Rick's mind, she quietly spoke up.

"He was three…when I lost him. Just turned three…"

Rick squeezed his eyes shut tight, tears running down his cheeks as his suspicions where confirmed. He'd been wondering since the prison if she'd had a child. The way she talked to Carl, how she handled Judith was indicative of how a mother would take care of her own children. She had been helping him raise his kids while missing her own. She'd cuddled Judith, holding her close while her own baby had been ripped from her. Her heart must have broken again and again. And yet, she still did it, nurturing Carl and Judith without hesitation.

The strength of this woman was unlike any he'd ever seen.

"Do you want…do you want to talk about it? You don't have to…" Rick offered.

She shook her head. She wanted to tell him, needed to.

"I was on a run. I left Andre with his dad, thinking they would be fine. Mike, his father…was struggling with how things were. We needed him to stand up, to accept this was reality but he just couldn't. When our camp was overrun, Mike wasn't able to protect himself or Andre. I lost them both."

Michonne turned over, facing Rick and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"Oh…honey…" Rick choked, his shirt getting damp with fresh tears from Michonne.

"My only job in this life was to keep him safe and I failed," Michonne cried.

"Every time someone else from our family dies, I feel like it's another step back. Maybe we're just kidding ourselves that we can build a life here. There's always someone who's going to take it from us."

Michonne had been the one to hold everyone up. And now the hope she'd held onto was slipping away. It had always been her that kept him together. Now, he needed to do the same for her.

Rick stroked the back of Michonne's head, his fingers threading through her locs.

"I can't even begin to imagine how it felt to carry this around with you every day, 'Chonne. I'm so sorry about Andre. But you didn't fail him. That was not your 're an amazing mother." Michonne noticed the present tense in his compliment and smiled a bit.

Her breath was starting to calm down, the tears slowing to a trickle. "He was the most beautiful boy, Rick. So sweet, so silly. You would have loved him."

"I already love him. Just like I love you."

Michonne lifted her head and placed a gentle kiss against Rick's lips.

"I know you do. I love you, too."

She dropped her head back against him, exhausted.

Neither one spoke, content to lie wrapped up in each other in the dark, quiet room. The outside struggles and dangers could wait, at least for now.


	13. Day 13

**Day 13**

 **by tikxy**

 **(find more of tikxy's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

The sleep they fell into after their heart-to-heart left Rick and Michonne feeling greatly refreshed. They were both still distressed over their situation, but they each knew they'd faced losses in the past and survived. Barely, but they'd managed it. And they would do it again if they had to. So when when part of their plan came to fruition, they couldn't help but feel a tiny glimmer of hope. But only a small one. The walker-infested world was no place to let I bloom in full.

"What do you have for us?" Rosita asked without preamble as she closed the front door behind Jesus.

He'd shown up at the gates of the ASZ with his usual stealth and nonchalantly told them he'd managed to get some good intel on the locations of important base within the Saviors' holdings.

Jesus pulled a crinkled map from within the folds of his trench coat and spread it over the tabletop in the center of the meeting room. They'd all gathered in the dining room of the house the Grime's family stayed in.

"From what I can see, they keep their food stores in a number of different places, so it'll be hard to weaken them by stealing it without spreading ourselves too thin. The same for their weapons and enforcer units. Their vehicles are distributed in similar manner."

Rick chewed on his lower lip, seeing how hard this was going to actually be. The saviors held much more land than they did, had more people, and way more resources. Even with the help of the Kingdom and Hilltop, this was going to be an uphill battle in a blizzard without shoes on.

"What about Negan?" he asked softly, glancing over at Carl who Rick had invited to the meeting to keep an eye on him and to show his son that he was doing something about the problem and why he'd held himself still before. "Where is he located?"

Jesus's finger landed on a slightly off-center location that appeared well-guarded with quick escape routes Jesus had drawn in using combinations of two and four tightly drawn circles to represent cars and motorcycles.

"If we cut off the head, we can kill the snake," Rick murmured, his eyes narrowing. "You think they got anybody to step up after Negan? Cause I don't."

Michonne pinched her lips and nodded in agreement. "If you want to control this many people, you have to make sure there's nobody who thinks they're as powerful as you are and certainly don't have the will to lead. I'm thinking he's a wolf herdin' sheep."

Other people in the room thought it over and realized she was probably right. The way Rick ran things was more of a democracy and there were a number of strong people, including Michonne, who could step in for him if he fell. But they were also constantly challenging him to find different ways to approach a problem. Negan and the Saviors on the other hand, seemed to be one trick ponies. They went in, they threatened, they blackmailed, they got what they wanted, they got out while keeping the threat constant. Any sign of resistance equaled death. If that's how Negan treated others, it was most likely how he treated his own crew.

"So…" Rosita said. "We gotta find a way to get in there and kill Negan without getting caught."

"We'll need to be really careful and have people in place ready to take down Negan's hit crews if they catch us on the move."

"We should probably make some explosives to create distractions and take out more people at a time," Rick tossed in, his fingers squeezing gently at Michonne's shoulder. "Somethin' to start a fire or two."

Jesus nodded. "We'll need to find out what supplies the Kingdom and Hilltop can contribute along with how many vehicles and people are willing to fight with us."

Rick's lips turned down bitterly. "I know a lot of the people in Hilltop are brave and able, but they've got the weasel Gregory running things. If Negan offered him a handshake, he'd probably tell 'em everything we've been planning."

Jesus came from Hilltop, but he couldn't help but agree. The man didn't exactly have a fighting spirit unless he was backed into a corner, and even then, he was the type to bite off his own hand to escape just so he wouldn't have to offer it to anyone else to help.

Their eyes met across the table and Jesus gave a slight nod. Rick shrugged and threw an arm around Michonne's neck.

"Let's see if we've got anything besides beans in the kitchen."


	14. Day 14

**Day 14**

 **by constablesmichonnes**

 **(find more of constablesmichonnes' writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

"Why'd you bring me with you?" Carl said, breaking the silence between himself and Michonne as they finished checking over the supplies they had brought with them before slowly making their way towards the building that made up Hilltop's main hall. The woman had been silent for most of their ride, and Carl did not bother to speak either. Nonetheless he was curious as to why she had chosen him to accompany her to see Maggie above anyone else, even his dad. He hadn't even asked her, much less spoken more than a handful of times to her in the last few days, and yet this morning when she appeared at his bedroom door and asked if he would like to go he all but jumped out of bed, if only to get away from Alexandria and his father's worried and watchful gaze.

"I thought you would like to help with the prep," Michonne replied while shutting the car door, her face turned away from him.

"Thanks."

"But," she paused, turning to face him directly, "that's not the only reason I brought you here." She leaned against the door with her arms crossed and her face straight and Carl's eyes widened in quick realization.

"No, not you too," he whined and rolled his head to the side, his shoulders slumped forward, "I already talked to my dad and I know what I did was stupid okay? I don't need another lecture." He knew that Michonne would possibly mention his stupid stunt of running away to kill Negan himself, but he had hoped that she wouldn't make him sit and listen to the same things his dad already told him.

"I know that you talked to him and I know that you know that you were wrong, but I also know that you didn't tell him everything you should have." Carl stubbornly turned away at her words, crossing his arms across his chest as she continued. "I also know that he didn't get through to you like he wanted to."

"What, and you will?" He said, his head sharply turning up to glare at her. She responded with a look of her own, one that told him not to push his luck with that attitude.

"Sorry." He muttered out once he realized that she would not deal with his attitude in the same way his father would. He then closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh before looking back up at her, the anger gone from his face. "What do you want from me?"

"The truth." She gestured towards small case shaded by the overgrown trees a few feet from the car, and spoke again once they had sat down on it. "What's going on? This isn't just about being helpless."

Carl clenched his fists against the edge of his seat, facing down with eyebrows clenched as he struggled with what to say. After a short moment, he lifted his head towards her, his eyes filled with rage as he took a deep breath. "You really wanna know? Fine. I'm angry Michonne, just so angry. With everything that's happened with my eye, Denise, and then Negan and-" he paused and Michonne swore that for a split second she could his eyes widen in fear before he closed them tight as if blocking away a horrible memory.

"I'm just so angry and I can feel it all bubbling around inside me but I just don't know what to do with it. At first it scared the crap out of me but now, I'm starting to see why I need to be. It's the only way to survive right now and it's the only thing I know how to act on." His eyes opened again as he looked back up at her, and his voice slightly cracked as he continued, "To be honest, I'm starting to like the feeling. It makes it easier to deal with it all."

"Carl-"

"Don't try and tell me the way I feel isn't right. I know it isn't, but I can't help how I feel."

Michonne chewed on her lip, thinking carefully about what to say next. A part of her was surprised that he had actually revealed what he had to her, and the last thing she wanted was to scare him back into silence. "I wasn't going to say that. It makes sense for you to feel this way, for anyone to feel this way. I would be more worried if you didn't."

What she said seemed to help as Carl relaxed slightly, slumping his shoulders and leaning his forearms against his thighs, his hands limply hanging in the middle. "I can't tell my dad any of this though. He has so much on him, he can't take anymore. I don't want him to take anymore. I need to be strong for him."

"Is that why you won't talk to him, why you ran off?"

Carl shook his head, staring off towards the woods. "For so long I had felt so lost, with nothing but five million thoughts running through me. But when I decided to hide away in the truck, everything just felt so clear."

"That's because you were acting on those emotions in you, they gave you an answer, a way to go." Michonne gently placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to face her again. "That doesn't mean that it's the right one though."

Carl remained silent, his face reflecting his uncertainty. In that moment Michonne wished that she could just embrace all of his pain, his anger, and his sorrow. It was moments like these that reminded her that no matter how strong Carl could be in the most desperate of times, he was still just a kid. A kid who could have a mixture of a million emotions swirling inside of them and no idea how to deal with them, and the world they lived in only made that more apparent. She wished that she had realized sooner just how badly everything had been affecting the boy who had grown to be a son to her sooner so that he wouldn't have had to suffer for so long without help.

"I need you to promise me something Carl."

"What?"

Keeping her hand on his shoulder, she cupped his chin with her other hand and turned his head so that he looked directly into her eyes before speaking. "Promise me that whenever you feel like the feelings inside of you are getting to be too much, that when you feel lost and don't know what to do or how to release everything that's pent up inside of you, that you'll come to me. We all feel this way, especially in times like these, and you don't need to fight this alone. Don't let those thoughts cause you to do reckless things just because you feel like you don't know where to turn."

"And in return, I won't tell your dad about anything that goes on between us." She finished, letting go of his chin as his gaze stayed locked to her.

"Really?"

Michonne's hand that still rested on his shoulder moved to wrap him around the shoulders, pulling him closer to her. "I think that you should tell him someday, but I know why you want to protect him." She shook her head, turning away from him to look out into the distance and said, "I do too."

Carl softly nodded his head, a small yet sad smile on his face as he turned and hugged her. "Thank you Michonne."

"Anytime," Michonne responded, rubbing his back comfortingly before pulling away. "Ready to go?"

Carl nodded his head, and as he and Michonne stood and began walking towards Hilltop's main building, he swore that his steps felt lighter. Almost as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest.


	15. Day 15

**Day 15**

 **by 2violetflower15**

 **(find more of 2violetflower15's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

"Rick, we're home."

Michonne called out the greeting and chuckled lightly to herself. How long had it been, a year? Maybe less? Judith had been nothing but a tiny pink ball when Michonne first arrived at the prison. Back in those days, every cry the little girl made reminded her of all the things she'd been trying desperately to forget. But Carl wouldn't let her forget, and neither would Rick. And now… they all had a place to call home. "Everything is different," Michonne whispered to herself.

"What's that?" Carl's head was hidden behind the refrigerator door and his question was slightly muffled.

"I said," she spoke louder, "everything is different now."

Carl emerged from the fridge with a look of confusion painted across his half hidden face. "What do you mean _different_?"

"Well," Michonne crossed over to him and closed the refrigerator door, "you just pulled a bottle of cold water from a refrigerator for one thing. Sure, it's filtered water in a refillable bottle, but I think the point stands."

"True," Carl took a small sip from his bottle. "and we're not sleeping in cells anymore."

" _Big_ difference," Michonne exclaimed with a big grin. "Sometimes I don't even want to get out of bed."

"Ugh," groaned Carl, "too much information."

"Ha-ha, very funny." Michonne shook her head and looked at Carl with an amused smirk. "We've gained a lot here, kid." She brushed his long bangs out of his face and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

"Yeah, well… we've lost a lot too," Carl added quietly, taking another sip from his water bottle.

Michonne nodded. "We'll win again," she replied.

Carl looked up at Michonne and for a moment he looked less like the little boy she met at the prison and more like a young man she was meeting for the first time. She found herself longing for that photograph of Lori they'd both fought so hard for not that long ago.

"You know," Carl's voice snapped Michonne out of her thoughts, "what you said about everything being different? Dad said something similar. A few weeks ago."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," the boy nodded. " It was the day that uh…" Carl shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked down at the floor. "It was the day that Jesus was here? That morning that he, uh…"

Michonne's eyes widened with shock. "I know which morning you're talking about."

"Okay, good. Well, Dad was trying to talk to me about the two of you, you know… being together now. And he said that 'this is different.'"

"He's verbose, your father."

"Ver- what?"

Michonne smiled. " _Verbose_. It means uses more words than needed."

"Hmmm," Carl let out a small snort of amusement. "Your sarcasm is much funnier than whatever that was that you did with the crazy cheese."

Michonne raised an eyebrow in the boy's direction. "Oh really? You didn't like that one, huh?"

"It was _pretty_ bad," Carl grinned.

Michonne smiled to herself and breathed a small sigh of relief. This lighthearted teasing from Carl was such a welcome respite from the dour, sullen person who had been hiding in the dark corners of this house over the last two weeks. It was nice to see a smile on his face, even if the smile was a little less bright than she'd remembered it to be. "So," she asked redirecting the conversation, "what do you think he meant by that?"

"Dad?"

Michonne nodded.

"I don't know," Carl sighed. "I guess I think that you were both saying the same thing, that what you have, what _we_ have, our life, our family…. It's different now. It's better. Than it has been. Which is why I'm so mad. I'm afraid that we're going to lose it again."

Carl looked up at her with a familiar squint in his eye and Michonne felt her heart clench with the strength of her love for him. A single tear trailed down his cheek and she wiped it away, just like she had done for his father a week or so ago. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet.

"I told your dad about Andre… a couple of days ago." Michonne sighed and leaned her back against the cool stainless steel of the refrigerator door. "I was feeling sad, and scared. So, I told him. I guess I just needed to say it out loud."

Carl nodded. "And how do you feel now?"

How _did_ she feel? Tired, for sure. Scared. And of all things, a little less sad. "Hopeful," she answered simply. Carl gave her a small smile of understanding and she returned it with one of her own. "Thanks for keeping my secret."

"It wasn't really a secret," he said.

"Thanks for keeping it anyway."

"Dah… dah." The sound of Judith's little voice rang out into the quiet stillness of the afternoon and floated along with the breeze through the open kitchen windows, disrupting their quiet moment.

"Peek-a-boo! I see you." Rick's gravelly baritone was followed by a series of wet raspberry kisses and giddy shrieks.

Michonne found herself fighting back a bubbly giggle and coughed to suppress the urge. "Sounds like we're missing all the fun."

The two made their way across the kitchen and through the door that led to the backyard. Rick and Judith were sprawled out on a blanket with toys spread out all around them. Rick was on his back, tossing the squealing little one into the air and then pulling her in close for sweet little neck kisses. The sight of them together like that warmed her heart so much that she almost didn't care that it was her favorite blanket they were sprawled out on.

"Well what do we have here?" Carl's voice rang out with that weird pitch of a young boy turning into a man and startled the father-daughter team out of their silly game.

"Hey, Jude," Rick sang to his daughter, "look who's home."

"Ca-ah!" The little girl clapped her hands together and beamed up at her big brother with such joy, Michonne couldn't help but smile right along with her.

"Looks like someone is happy to see you," Michonne said.

"Can you blame her? She's been here listening to Dad's jokes all day. This child is desperate for some real entertainment." Carl joked, reaching down to take his sister away from Rick.

"Hey," the elder Grimes chimed in, "you heard her when you walked in. Judith thinks I'm funny."

"Funny looking," Michonne and Carl said in unison. Their cackling laughter rang through the air.

"Oh… I see how this is, you two are back to teaming up on me."

Michonne gave Rick a look of feigned incredulity "We would never! The kid just digs my sarcasm." She turned to Carl and gave him a mischievous wink.

"Oh, that reminds me," Carl said with a chuckle, "I have a new word to teach you Judith. It's verbose. Say it with me…"

Michonne watched as Carl walked around their small backyard bouncing his sister on his hip. A heavy sigh passed through her body and she felt the tension of the day finally begin to seep out of her. Everything that mattered to her was right here, safe and sound. The peace that came with that knowledge was like a calming salve on an aching wound. She turned her attention to her partner and wasn't surprised to find his eyes trained on his children. She watched as a torrent of different emotions played across his face, and she felt every one of them right along with him. His relief was her relief; his joy, his fear, his hope… all shared.

It's better now.

Carl said it back in the kitchen, but when Rick turned his gaze in her direction and pinned her with the weight of his heavy, hopeful stare, she _felt_ it.

 _It's better now._

She gave Rick a warm smile, placed one hand over her heart, and with a single nod she let him know that they were going to be okay.

He exhaled a deep sigh of relief and with an agile grace, Rick pushed himself off the ground and swiftly closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tucked his hands neatly into the back pockets of her jeans. She tilted her head to kiss him gently on the chin and smiled when she felt his warm lips on her forehead. They stayed that way for a long moment before they set off to join the children, their children.

And in that moment, life really was better.


	16. Day 16

**Day 16**

 **by tikxy**

 **(find more of tikxy's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

"Today-"

Michonne groaned when Rick nudged against her, waking her from a dream of heading to the supermarket where she was surrounded with ever sweet she'd ever desired. Her teeth ached for the fuzzy feeling of sugar eating away at the enamel.

Rick's grin settled her as his beard tickled the back of her neck through her braids. "No talking of what we're gonna do or anything bad that's gone down."

Michonne's brows lifted in surprise. Rick was one for wallowing in the bad and always had to be pulled kicking and screaming to the glass-half full side of things. She guessed yesterday really did make everything seem brighter. "Oh?" She asked with a little smile, closing her eyes and pressing back against him.

"And guess what else?"

"We're out of toothpaste again?" Michonne hazarded.

"What?! No."

"Your breath thinks so."

Rick couldn't help the little smile that darted across his face and shook his head, refraining from playfully insulting her right back. He wanted the day to be perfect, and the night of course.

"Well, I talked to Carl last night and got him to agree to babysit Judith for part of the day, then when he gets tired of looking after her all by himself, well, they're to head over to Father Gabriel's for the evenin'. What you think about that?" He asked, proud of himself.

Michonne rolled over and wrapped her arms around his neck. "And what exactly do you expect to happen when just the two of us are here, all alone in this big ol' house, in this big ol' bed?"

Rick quirked his dark brows. "Well, I figured maybe we could move things around a little bit?"

"Like what?" Michonne flirted, feeling a giddy smile dart across her face. They'd been together as strangers, then friends and partners, to now lovers for a while now. But one thing they hadn't done was have an actual date. A romantic day for just the two of them. She was a little surprised he'd thought of it and wondered if someone a little more romance inclined had thrown him a hint or two. Maybe even Carl had suggested it and Rick had convinced himself he'd been the one behind the great idea.

"Well, we could start with these bedsheets. Get them somewhere besides around this beautiful body o' yours. Then maybe we could hit the shower and share the water. You know we've gotta keep an eye on resources."

Michonne laughed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And then, once we're all dry and all dressed up-" He kissed Michonne softly on the lips then rolled away from her, pulling a cardboard box with a strip of pretty fabric tied around it like a ribbon. He passed it to Michonne, his eyes glittering with excitement. "Maybe you could join me for dinner tonight."

Michonne sat up and opened the box, hoping against hope that he'd somehow found a pack of gum or a chocolate bar stashed away somewhere. So she tried to mask her slight disappointment with a large grin when she found a dark purple wrap dress shot through with golden threads.

"Wow! Where did-"

Rick smacked his hands on his thighs happily. "I knew you'd like it. It was in the back of a warehouse we raided a few weeks ago and I've been holding onto it ever since." He cupped her chin in his hand when her eyes went soft and held her close.

"Come on. Let's start on step one of that plan," Michonne said with a wild laugh, peeling back the covers to reveal herself.

"I think you're gonna taste even better than dinner tonight," he said with a tight swallow."

She lowered her lashes and gave him a smirking leer. "Why don't you come on over here and find out."

— *** —-

Rick lifted his champagne glass toward his beautiful partner, realizing that the next time they went of a run he should try to find some kind of ring for her. Life was unpredictable with walkers at every turn and enemies among the few humans left. They should have some permanent symbol of one another. Something to hold onto and remember should something –

He shook his head, breaking off that line of thought and instead grinned at Michonne. "To you."

She laughed, her braids dancing down her back. She looked even more beautiful with the colors of the dress picking out undertones of her glorious, dark skin. "And to you, I guess."

"To us," Rick said, feeling cheesy.

"To me and you," Michonne said, mocking him.

His cheeks hurt from smiling so much in her presence. "Let's eat this dinner I shamelessly used Judith to get Ellen to make. Carl is gonna be home in four hours and that's not enough time to wear you out."

Michonne lifted her glass again in agreement and they both tucked in, candlelight glittering in their gazes.


	17. Day 17

**Day 17**

 **by 2violetflower15**

 **(find more of 2violetflower's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

The midday sun was burning bright as the two men worked to put away the tools they'd used to till the soil of the - newly structured - community garden. Rick handed Father Gabriel the last shovel to be put into the storage shed, and was handed a bottle of water in return. He nodded his thanks and took a long sip, then poured a little of the sun warmed liquid over his head. The spring rains had left the cisterns full, and as a result, water was one of the few resources that they had an abundance of these days.

When Rick had first arrived in the garden, the sun had barely begun to make its ascent into the morning sky. The stretch of land that had been claimed for the garden was overgrown with weeds and desperately needed some attention. In the light of the breaking day, the unlikely duo had set out to prep the soil for planting. Rick had taken to calling the land "Michonne's Garden," to which she always replied:

 _You're the farmer_.

And for some silly reason it always made him smile; even when it was being said while he was being kicked out of bed, and thusly denied his favorite thing about waking up next to her every morning. Which, coincidentally, just happened to be his favorite thing about falling asleep next to her every night.

With a quiet chuckle, Rick removed his gloves and bent down to finger the soil he'd just finished turning. The dark earth was crumbly and moist, with a sweet smell to it; one that brought to mind the crisp burst of corn kernels, and the juicy plumpness of ripened tomatos. "Perfect," he muttered to himself, rolling the soil between his fingertips.

"Not too bad, huh?"

The farmer turned his gazed towards the holy man with a nod. "Not bad at all," he agreed. "All we have to do now is get some seeds into the ground."

"And this garden will be fruitful, I know it."

Rick stood and looked at the Father with mild surprise. "You're awfully optimistic these days," he commented.

"No, this isn't optimism. This," he pointed one long finger towards the clear blue sky, "is all about faith."

"Faith, huh?" Rick nodded in understanding but decided to keep his thoughts to himself. His relationship with Gabriel had grown significantly over the past few months, to the point where they now found themselves, surprisingly, working quite well together. There was even a point, right after Carl had lost his eye, when Rick had taken to visiting the Father… just to talk. The talks weren't exactly confessional per se, but the fact that his confidant wore a white collar was never far from Rick's mind. Fortunately, the priest never overtly brought up the subject of God, and that made it so that Rick had someone to talk to. When he wasn't talking to Michonne, that is. "You think this garden is the Lord's work," he asked.

Father Gabriel smiled. "If this isn't the Lord's work, then I don't know what is."

"Well," Rick's lip twitched, just once, as he turned and took in the huge wall that surrounded their neighborhood, "I'd say that if there _is_ a God up there pulling the strings, then he needs to take responsibility for the mess on the other side of these walls."

"Hmm," Father Gabriel squinted into the sun, "Amos, 9:14: I will restore the captivity of My people Israel, And they will rebuild the ruined cities and live in them; They will also plant vineyards and drink their wine, And make gardens and eat their fruit."

The two men stood together, shoulder to shoulder, and contemplatively quiet, in the middle of Michonne's Garden. Something about the soil, the sun, and Father Gabriel's words made Rick think of Hershel. He could remember a day, not all that long ago, when he and the older man had sat together and talked about God, and faith. 'I was wondering when you and I would get into this conversation."

"And what conversation is that?"

Rick turned his head and raised an eyebrow in the Priest's direction, "The 'do you believe in God' conversation."

" _Do_ you believe in God," Father Gabriel asked.

Rick exhaled a long breath. "The last man who asked me that is dead now. He was a good man. He was murdered." He thought back to that open field in front of the prison, and the sight of Michonne's sword as it sliced through Hershel's body. and then of another night in a different field, where the sickening thud of a bat echoed through the darkness. Rick felt his stomach start to burn. "No, I don't." He took a deep breath and balled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. "I'm not so sure that I ever really believed, to tell you the truth."

Rick's gaze fell to the ground and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his middle finger. For some reason, this whole conversation had him feeling angry and defensive; like he had done or said something wrong. He used the toe of his worn leather boot to kick up a bit of soil, then gently stomped it back into place.

"Hey, Michonne."

The sound of her name made Rick snap to attention, and instantly, his eyes sought her out. He spotted her walking past the garden with her katana strapped across her back and an M4 rifle at her side.

"Hello, Father," she called out. "The garden looks wonderful already. Thank you for all your hard work."

Her shapely legs were encased in her customary dark jeans, and a thin white tank top showed off her long, toned arms. _She must be headed to guard duty_ , he thought to himself.

"Thank Rick," the Priest said, "it was all his vision."

"Well… He _is_ the farmer," she said with a laugh.

Their eyes met and Rick smiled at her joke. She raised her hand and gave him a tiny wave, the kind of wave that was mostly fingers dancing. Rick's smile grew bigger and he waved back. She returned his smile and continued her trek toward the guard post. He took a moment to admire the curve of her firm bottom, and the seductive sway of her delicious hips. While he wanted to take her home and do wicked things to her, he was more than content with just being able to watch her walk away.

"You know, it's been awhile since I've seen it, but I still remember what it looks like. And that," the Priest gestured between Rick and Michonne, "looks a lot like love to me."

"Huh," Rick bit his lip slightly to tamper the goofy grin that wouldn't seem to leave his face. He was still staring off after Michonne. "Well that's probably because it is."

Father Gabriel gave Rick a knowing grin, "And if _that's_ not the Lord's work, then I don't know what is."


	18. Day 18

**Day 18**

 **by queencoles**

 **(find more of queencoles' writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

The sun was just breaking over the horizon when Spencer came to relieve Michonne from watch duty. Ordinarily, she would spare a few minutes to catch up with only surviving member of the Monroe family. But it had been a long and uneventful night and Michonne wanted nothing more than to make it home to her family, hopefully before they rose to start their day.

"Thanks again for covering for me, Michonne," Spencer was saying to her as she headed for the ladder.

"Don't mention it," she sleepily returned, absently noting how wide eyed and refreshed he seemed that morning. She also noticed that he hadn't come from the direction of the Monroe household but decided not to comment on either of those things as she was too tired to really care.

Quietly and quickly, she made her way through the safe zone down the path that led to her house. When she initially agreed to switch guard shifts with Spencer she did not fully consider the little morning rituals in her household that she might have missed; waking up in Rick's arms, getting little Judith dressed, tag-teaming breakfast prep with Carl for them all to partake in together before their duties called them in their separate ways. Those mundane little nuances that meant so much to her.

For the most part, the safe zone was in a relatively listless state given the early hour. One house, however, was an exception to the rule.

The front door to the home that doubled as the community medical facility was wide open with two boxes stacked against it, keeping it ajar.

Curiosity outweighed lethargy as Michonne stopped to see what was going on. "Tara?" she called from her place at the bottom of the porch steps.

"Yeah?" came Tara's muffled reply.

Michonne made her way up the steps, stopping in the doorway to see her friend sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor with her head in her hands, surrounded by household items and cardboard boxes.

"What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious," Tara muttered without lifting her head, "I'm packing."

Michonne nodded as she considered the space. "Going somewhere?" she tentatively asked.

Tara raised her head as she took in the disheveled state of things and inhaled a shaky breath. "It doesn't really make sense to stay here, you know," she said, running her fingers through her hair, "I mean what if we find another doctor, they'd need this space so…I dunno, I figured I'd be proactive."

Tara's words were heavy with things left unsaid and Michonne felt emphatically for her. Seeing her so lost in her grief re-surged those feelings of anger and sadness for what they were made to endure again.

With a sigh, Michonne removed her katana and sheath from her back and rested it against the wall. "Makes sense," she said. "Do you have a place in mind? There's room with us, you're welcome to it."

Tara lifted her gaze and a small smile relaying her gratitude. "Thanks, but Rosita already said I could stay with her. I'm just not really sure what to do with…"

As her words trailed off Michonne understood that her hesitation came from trying to pack Denise's belongings. As if losing someone you loved was not hard enough, having to sift through the items that once belonged to them had to be some form of torture.

"Can I help?" she gently asked, reaching for the box nearest her.

Tara sniffed and wiped at her eyes as she pushed herself to her feet. "You don't have to," she said, wiping at her face as she preoccupied herself with an empty box and headed towards the sofa to gather some of the items there. "I don't even know why it feels like this. This is what life is now, right? You lose people. I mean, it's happened before with Alisha and my sister and my niece…what's a few more? It is what it is, right?"

There was an edge to her voice that Michonne was all too familiar with. She had been there after she lost her son, her boyfriend, and the life they shared. It was that anger that made you stupid, that anger that got you killed. And Michonne could not lose more people that way.

She wouldn't.

So she dropped the box in her hands and reached for Tara's arm, turning her so that they faced each other. "No," she told her, her voice mustering all the conviction she could manage in the one word. "I know it doesn't seem like it right now. And I know how bad it hurts, believe me. But this is _not_ it, you hear me? It's not."

Tara dropped her gaze and shoulders in defeat. She sighed heavily. "I feel like this is something I should be used to by now. But it's not and I'm not sure what am I supposed to do."

"You keep going," Michonne murmured, "for the ones we've lost and remember that there are still people around you to help you through it. You're not alone."

Tara shook her head and exhaled through her nose. "I can't ask that of you, Michonne. I know you gotta get to Rick and the kids…you're family." Her breath hitched on that last part.

Michonne placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "They're fine," she insists softly, "besides, you're family too."

Tara paused and shifted her eyes to Michonne, a single tear slipped down her cheek. Michonne wrapped her arms around her friend and Tara embraced her back as the dam burst and the tears freely flowed.

Tara shook with the grief she hadn't allowed herself to feel since she returned from her run only to find out that the woman she loved and the men she had grown to know like brothers were brutally taken from this world.

Michonne held her close and let her own silent tears run down her face. She had no idea how long they stayed that way, lost in their shared grief. Until finally, Tara had mustered the strength to pull away.

She reached down and picked up a sweatshirt that had belonged to Denise and clutched it to her chest, inhaling its scent.

"Tell you what, let's get your things together now. Rick and I can come back later and finish up," Michonne offered.

Tara turned to her, surprised at the gesture. "You sure?"

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't."

Tara nodded hugging the sweatshirt to her chest. "Okay."

They had gathered up the boxes that had been left by the door, the only items Tara said she would need and locked up the house.

When they had arrived at what would be Tara's new home Eugene had opened the door before they could knock for entry. His face was plastered with his usual stoicism as he clutched a spatula like a weapon in his hands.

Michonne and Tara mirrored looks confusion before Tara cautiously asked, "Expecting someone, Eugene?"

Eugene blinked and stammered out, "No. I mean yes. I mean…I thought Rosita's gentleman caller had returned to which I was prepared to inform him that his reserved time is after sundown through to sunrise and not a moment more."

"I got it, Eugene," Rosita stated with mild annoyance from behind him.

Eugene glanced over his shoulder and nodded before awkwardly moving out of the way.

Rosita rolled her eyes and pushed the front door open wider to allow the women through. "Don't ask," she said.

"Wasn't gonna," Tara returned as she made her way inside.

Michonne snorted and followed her in.

After ensuring that Tara was settled in, Michonne hugged her friend leaving her with the promise that she would take care of what they had left behind.

"Thanks again, Michonne, for everything."

"No problem. It's what we do."

And with that she set off for her own home, at last. When she arrived, much to her chagrin, everyone was awake and preparing to sit down for breakfast.

"I was about to come look for you," Rick told her when she entered the kitchen.

He opened his arms welcoming her into his embrace and pressed a warm kiss to her forehead. "How was the night shift?"

"Remind me never to switch with Spencer again," she said, hugging him tightly before letting go to scoop a reaching Judith out of her brother's arms.

"Not that you have to ask but any reason why?" Rick asked, settling into his seat.

"Does it matter?" Carl chimed in. "So long as we're not stuck with your cooking again."

Michonne chuckled under her breath while Rick tossed his son an unamused look. "It ain't that bad."

Carl raised his spoon letting whatever oatmeal soup concoction his father had made up drip un-appetizingly back into his bowl. "You sure about that?"

"It does look pretty terrible, Rick," Michonne concurred with a sympathetic smile as she sat down, bouncing a giggling Judith on her lap.

"Well that's the last time I slave over a stove you lot," Rick muttered.

"Promise?" Carl asked with a grin and Michonne laughed.

Rick chose to ignore them as he stuffed a mouthful of the food into his mouth. Then forced himself to swallow when he realized they were right, causing them to laugh harder.

"I think we have a loaf of bread and some peanut butter left, I'll go check," Carl offered after they settled, pushing back from the table.

"There's some apples in the refrigerator, grab those too," Michonne instructed.

Carl nodded and went to gather their backup plan together.

"I'm sorry, Chonne," Rick said, dejectedly as he pushed his bowl back. "I figured after being out there all night the least I could do was make a hot breakfast for you."

Michonne reached over and grasped his hand, offering him a genuine smile as she traced her thumb over his knuckles. "Don't be sorry. Just being able to come home to you is enough."

Rick turned her hand over in his and lifted to his lips to press a kiss into her palm. "Everything go okay out there?" he asked, sensing there was more to her words than she was actually saying.

Michonne nodded. "Yeah, I'm just glad to be home."

Rick nodded. "Me too," he said, just as Carl returned with their foolproof breakfast.

Together they ate and talked and laughed over their breakfast. And, not for the first time, Michonne realized how blessed she was to be able to have these moments with the man she loved and their children. And she knew, especially now, that that she would never take them for granted and that she would do everything in her power to keep them safe.


	19. Day 19

**Day 19**

 **by pennylane714**

 **(find more of pennylane714's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Rick had managed to wander off alone. He needed some silence, some solace. Eventually, he found himself in the one place he'd been avoiding: the town cemetery

Once fairly small, the secluded resting place seemed to have grown significantly since he and his family had arrived in Alexandria. The guilt that continued to cover his being like a comforting blanket made itself known again. The sadness and shame never fully went away.

There were times that Rick wondered if he really *was* cursed. Disaster seemed to follow him at every turn and the people he cared for tended to suffer the consequences.

He finally found what he'd been looking for. The sight of the grave, the freshest among the the rest, felt like a shot to his heart. Rick placed his fingers gently over the make-shift cross, tracing the letters of the name that had been carved into it. It still didn't seem like this could actually be true. How could it? The man lying below the sod once had a beautiful future ahead of him. It had been a future that he'd suffered and worked so hard for, only to have it cruelly snatched away by a monster.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry," Rick whispered into the empty air. "I know being sorry doesn't change anything but I'd do anything to change this for you. You didn't deserve this."

The grief threatened to bubble up again and Rick steadied his breathing to keep himself from collapsing to the ground.

"I don't know when it will happen or how but I promise you…Negan will pay for this…"

Rick was suddenly aware of footsteps approaching him from behind. He didn't need to look to know who it was. There was really only one person who kept tabs on him these days; it was the one person who refused to let him fall back into that hole of despair he tended to make his home.

She didn't say anything. Moving to his side, Michonne simply reached her hand towards Rick and he proceeded to grab it like a lifeline. Almost in unison, they both turned their eyes to the memorial wall inscribed with names of the lost. Name after name after name. It seemed never-ending.

"This can't go on," Rick said, gruffly. "Sasha…Maggie…her baby. _Their_ baby. They've had so much torn from them. This has to end."

Michonne inhaled deeply. "It will," she agreed, somberly. "If anyone can beat this, we can."

Rick looked to the ground, staring at his feet.

"I need you with me on this, Michonne. We aren't going to get through this fight without you. Still…I wish there was some way to keep you out of it. I know there isn't but I wish there was."

She turned, lifting his head, making him meet her eyes. "Why?" she asked, confused.

"I can't lose anyone else I love. I can't." His steely blue gaze made Michonne's heart jump.

Rick continued to hold one of her hands, moving to caress her cheek with the other one.

"Keeping you and the kids safe…it's on my mind all day, every day. I can't let anything happen to you,'Chonne… I can't lose you…won't lose you. I love you so much…"

Michonne's eyes welled with tears as she leaned into his touch. "You aren't going to lose me, Rick."

Tightening her grip on his hand, Michonne moved closer and placed a soft kiss on Rick's lips. She touched her forehead against his.

"We will win this. We don't die, Rick. _We. Don't. Die_."

The pressure in Rick's chest instantly felt lighter. He knew they would continue to be beaten down. The deaths would add up and the suffering would always be there. But as long as he had his family, his love by his side, they could get through anything.


	20. Day 20

Day 20

by queencoles

 **(find more of queencoles' writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Rick made his way down the aisle, feeling the eyes of his people on his back as he headed for the alter to address them. The last time they had gathered like this was when he had to swallow his already wounded pride and admit defeat, letting them know in the clearest possible terms that he was not charge any more…that they were now under Negan's rule. He remembered their looks of confusion, the unspoken fear and accusation lingering in their eyes–none of which he could blame them for. Besides, whatever reproach they had for him, he could definitively say it was no worse than what held for himself.

But he had wallowed in self-hatred long enough. He had mourned long enough. The time had come to do something. _Rest in peace, now get up and go to war_ , he thought as he turned in front of the pulpit and locked eyes with his family sitting in the front row. He knew the only reason he was able to claw himself out of the darkness was because of them.

He let his gaze linger on the love his life and she stared back him with the same unwavering confidence that had brought him back in the first place. Their children were beside her, encouraging him further.

He lifted his eyes from them to face the rest of the community knowing this time was different.

This was the 'now or never' moment to rally together and put an end to Negan's demented claim over their lives. Still, after everything that had happened he knew their faith and support in him was a lot to ask. But he would not let fear deter him from trying.

So he took a deep breath and did just that.

"I want to thank you all for coming here today. I know this past month hasn't been easy on any of us, but we've managed to come together and do what needs to be done. And it's made of us stronger. You gotta know that after everything we've been through, we _are_ stronger."

He took in their faces as he spoke, looking over the people who had become his family, the people that made up the community they all shared. They were weary but not beaten. Broken but not defeated. It was just a matter of picking up the pieces now.

"And I know it hasn't always felt like it," he continued as his strong timbre yielded their undivided attention, "especially after losing so much. But the world we live in doesn't care about how much you lose, because if you take too long to grieve you might as well be digging the next grave." He thought about Abraham and Glenn, and how their blood was still warm on the ground when the rest of his family had rifles to backs of their heads.

"What Negan has done to us, he won't get away with. Now I know that after everything that's happened I don't have the right to ask you for anything. But this is our home, our lives and that's why I'm standing here now, to let you know that we are going to take our community back." Rick dipped his head, nodding himself before he lifted his gaze once more. "And I know how we can."

There were murmurs in the crowd then. While the eyes and ears of those closest to him remained steadfast, there were some others struggling between disbelief and dangerous hope.

Rick squinted his eyes, he wasn't surprised by this reaction but he also knew this could only work if they were all in together. Then he caught Michonne's eye, she winked at him and gave him an imperceptible nod, conveying without words her faith in him.

What he'd do without her, he never wanted to know.

"We can put an end to this," he said to them, calling their attention back his way. "I've seen what we can do when we work together. And with our alliances with the Hilltop and the Kingdom we have the upper hand. It gives us an advantage Negan isn't thinking of. But we have to agree on this. It only works if we work together."

The silence that followed his words stretched on for longer than Rick would have liked until Gabriel stood from his place a few rows back.

"Negan is man without cause," the former pastor said, looking at Rick directly before turning his head to address the rest of the room. "In a world that already takes so much, he goes out of his way to take even more. He has an appetite that can never be satisfied and I, for one, have no intention of spending the rest of my life feeding an insatiable beast."

Rick could see the other Alexandrians regard Gabriel with varying degrees of agreement and his appreciation of the man grew even more.

"I believe we can do this. Rick is right, we are stronger and stronger still with our new allies," Gabriel looked back at Rick and nodded his formal approval. "You have plan to get us out of this."

It wasn't so much a question but Rick nodded return anyway. "I do."

"Then I'd like to hear it. I want to know every detail of our take this beast down."

Across the aisle Tobin stood from his seat next. "Same here. I'm with you, Rick."

And so went; Heath stood next, then Tara, then Olivia and before long the whole room. All of them coming together, in one way or another having declared allegiance to their community and reclaiming control over their own lives.

Rick's chest swelled with pride as the scene unfolded before him. The gratitude he felt was beyond the scope of words, so he just nodded his and moved forward a little. "All right. Let's get to it then."

* * *

Rick had spent the remainder of the time divulging the details of Alexandria's role in Negan's take-down. He was pleased with how well received his plan was among the group. Then the congregation dispersed with plans to meet tomorrow and begin formal training.

As the church cleared, Rick had ventured over to the front pew and sank down beside Michonne and a sleeping Judith. He lifted his arm to rest around her as she scooted closer and leaned into his shoulder, mindful of the unconscious child in her arms.

Rick chuckled under his breath as he rested his cheek on her head. "Was my speech that boring?"

"It was riveting, actually," Michonne returned with a smile on her face, "Judes passed out from all the excitement."

Rick hugged her shoulders a little tighter, lifting his head to kiss the top of hers. "Carl took a walk with Enid," he murmured when he pulled away.

Michonne nodded. "He ran that by me already," she said, tiling her head to consider him. "You okay?"

Rick inhaled deeply, letting his head fall back. "It's gonna be a fight, Chonne."

"Hey," Michonne said softly, resting her hand on his knee, "we'll win," she told him firmly when he brought his gaze back to hers.

The fact that they had spoken these words in reverse before, in a situation not so and yet altogether different, was not lost on him. "We'll win," he repeated with certainty.

And he felt confident that they would. Not in the way he felt that morning on the day when this whole nightmare began. He was more boastful than anything back then.

They would win because it wasn't an option for them not too. For their community, for their family, and for each other, they would win.


	21. Day 21

**Day 21**

 **by birdnmouse**

 **(find more of birdnmouse's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Michonne made her way through the crowded stretch of street just behind the main gates, weaving through the groups of people clustered around tables set up in the middle of the street. The entire community was on hand, and by all outward appearances, the scene looked like a neighborhood block party. The tables, however, were lined with knives and guns instead of casseroles and pies; and the community had gathered not in celebration, but in preparation for the upcoming war.

Each group was led by a weapons trainer, and as she moved from table to table, the snippets of conversation she overheard ranged from proper grip of a machete to hand to hand combat to emergency first aid. Pleased with what she heard, she kept walking since her services were not needed there.

She looked up at the closest guard tower, shielding her eyes from the bright sun, so that she could check in on her partner. He was stationed on the platform, back to the community, and bent at the waist with his hands resting on the edge of the wall, looking like a general watching over his troops, which was what he had become in a way.

She walked over to the post, and climbed up the ladder then took her spot right beside him.

"Working hard, huh?" she asked as she nudged him with her shoulder.

He looked over with a warning eye, then nodded his head out toward the main road that led into the community which had become a makeshift shooting range for the day.

"You see that?"

Her eyes went from Tobin and Eric who were taking turns on one target, to Enid who was standing behind Carl with her arms crossed against her chest. She was watching as he raised his right hand level with his left eye and, without hesitation, fired off a shot that struck the target dead center. Michonne smiled as Enid threw her arms in the air, and complained about how unfair it was, as Carl turned around and gave her an innocent shrug.

"Wonder where he gets that from?" Michonne mused as she glanced down at the Colt Python that hung from the holster over Rick's right hip.

Rick just shook his head as he watched his son and Enid exchange a few words and laugh as he handed off the handgun to her for another round.

"I taught him everything I knew, but I have no idea how he pulls off those shots now."

She was the one to shake her head now as she watched Carl pull at his bandage to readjust it. It had become so much a part of him that she hardly noticed it anymore unless something brought it to her attention. And in this moment, she was reminded of his resilience as she watched him carrying on with a girl his age just moments after pulling off a shot like that; all just a few months after being shot himself and losing his eye.

She watched Enid get into position, feet shuffling and eyes shifting from the gun in her hands to the target as she tried to perfect her stance. After a few moments of watching her struggle, Carl stepped in behind her, his chest to her back as he brought his arms around hers to help her out. Michonne felt a flush in her cheeks as she watched them, then turned to Rick to find that had also noticed his son's slick move.

"He learn that one from you, too?" she teased.

"Yeah," Rick huffed out sarcastically. "I really don't know where he picked that one up."

"Right…" She wasn't buying it since she'd been on the receiving end of a few surprising moves that she'd never expected Rick to have up his sleeve. "Either way, it's nice to see him with a smile on his face."

"You have no idea."

Rick slipped his hand over hers where it rested on the wall next to his and let out a contented sigh. They were on their way to war, but he allowed himself a few minutes just to enjoy the sight of his eldest child acting like a kid and, from all appearances, enjoying it. He looked up at his quiet partner to find her watching the boy below with her own soft smile. This is what they were fighting for, a lifetime of moments like this.

"Hey," he said as he squeezed her hand. "I know we've been busy today, but if you want to get a little target practice in later on, I'm happy to give you a refresher."

Her eyes lifted from the kids below to the man standing beside her with a suggestive grin on his lips which caused her to start laughing to herself.

"Yeah, no clue where he gets it…"


	22. Day 22

**Day 22**

 **by semul**

 **(find more of semul's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Carl let out a loud yawn, stretching his tired limbs. "I don't know about you guys but I'm going to bed," his eyes watered from exertion, "Tired."

Rick and Michonne nodded at the young boy in understanding. It was late. The three of them had spent all night huddled around the kitchen table, revising every detail of their plan of attack; they couldn't leave anything to chance. They wouldn't underestimate Negan again.

Rick had been against the idea of involving Carl but given their limited options, he set aside his instinct to overprotect his boy. Carl's knowledge of the compound was essential. Besides, working together, having a common goal, was helping ease the tension between them. They had something to look forward to, something to focus on. It was exactly as Michonne had predicted when she convinced him to include the young boy.

Carl wearily stood from his chair and reached out to gently squeeze her shoulder beside him. She smiled warmly, resting her hand atop his. Rick grinned. He wasn't the only one who appreciated her: Carl and Judith loved her to pieces.

Aside from keeping them alive, she kept them hopeful. She was the guiding light of the family. Finding her in the middle of all this was a miracle, a small yet crucial sign of mercy in this godforsaken world.

"'Night," Carl tiredly called out behind him as he turned to walk away.

"G'night," she murmured, Rick echoing the sentiment. They silently gazed as he shuffled off to his room.

The soft glow of the lanterns induced a calm, reflective mood. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. The couple relaxed in their chairs, staring serenely at the piles of paper before them, taking in the still of the night, the buzzing tension of preparation tapering off.

After a moment of easy silence, Rick softly snorted.

Thrown off by his sudden reaction, she gave him a puzzled look across the table. "What?"

He grinned and gently shook his head. "I just…," he said, looking down at the map in front of him, thoughts running through his head of his son as an infant resting against his chest, tiny and helpless. It truly felt as if all these years had passed by in the blink of an eye.

"Sometimes I can't believe how much he's grown up," he said finally, utterly amazed by his son's resilience. He would have never survived if his life had been turned upside down at that age. The strength he possessed to continue persevering in a world that had cruelly taken so much away from him was beyond his understanding.

Michonne sighed deeply, thoughts of the things she'd been around to see the young boy go through flashed through her mind. "He's been through a lot," she sagely agreed.

"Yeah," he rasped softly, "He has."

They'd all been through a lot. How they'd made it this far was inexplicable. The odds were against them but they'd survived and found each other in the process. Though the world was full of unimaginable cruelty, they'd discovered a precious life worth living.

"He's overcome what life's thrown at him," she said assuredly, teasingly adding, "He is a survivor, just like his old man."

He scoffed lightly, humored by her lighthearted dig, and leaned back against his chair, rubbing his eye. "I don't know if I'd call that survival. Feels more like a bad habit I can't seem to shake off."

She raised her eyebrows in understanding. Living nowadays felt more like a burden than a blessing. Life didn't come without paying the price, a price that took its toll over time. Still, she was able to fully appreciate that Rick's 'bad habit' of living had kept them alive more times than she could count. She couldn't imagine everything he'd done for Carl before she was around.

"It's a habit that's kept him alive," she pointed out, quietly gazing at him.

He skeptically raised his brow, keeping his eyes on the table in front of him. "Yeah, with one less eye."

She frowned at his ill attempt at humor, gazing up at him evenly. "That wasn't on you," she reminded him.

He searched her steady gaze for a moment before looking away. "Maybe," he said unconvinced, his fingertips quietly tapping against the table.

All he knew was that she'd saved them countless times, specifically that horrifying night. He still had nightmares about it, that fateful shot still ringing in his ears. If she hadn't been there, they'd both be dead. He'd certainly not been in the right state of mind to defend himself from the relentless herd of walkers.

"To be honest, that night, we wouldn't've made it past that herd if it wasn't for you," he confessed openly.

She inhaled deeply. It had been rough night but they'd made it through. In hindsight, it was a good thing nothing living had gotten in their way because she would've sliced right through it without hesitation. Apparently, desperation and Carl's life hanging in the balance was the perfect combination needed to release the mama bear in her.

A smile tugged at her lips as Rick's first words upon entering Alexandria came to mind. She attempted to maintain a serious face, her smile betraying her. "Yeah," she affirmed. "Good thing I was there."

He smiled with a quiet snort, shaking his head. Though she was kidding, she was right. It truly was a good thing she was there. His smile faded as a contemplative look passed over his face.

"You're right." The past year's events came to mind and in every scenario, he saw her face. "You've always been there for us. Looking out for us. Saving our asses. Saving my ass," he pointed out.

She gazed at him puzzled by his sudden appreciation. "I wasn't the only one saving asses. You had a lot to do with it, too."

He looked at her skeptically. He didn't see it that way. He was the one that got them onto these hard situations. She was the one who bailed them out.

"Says the woman who single-handedly saved me from the Governor," he retorted, still in obvious awe of her incredibly skills with her sword and ability to handle herself.

She shrugged indifferently. Though she'd had her personal reasons for killing him, those hadn't factored in when the moment came. Protecting Rick had been her focus.

"True but when we came across Terminus, you found our family, kept us going. You got us out of there. Alive and in one piece," she reminded him.

"That was Carol," he corrected her. "I was the one who got us into that mess in the first place."

"Mmm," she said in a disagreeing tone, though relenting after he gave her an unconvinced look, knowing there was no changing his mind.

"Fine but you were there when things got impossible. That night on the road with Daryl and that group…," her voice trailed, wanting him to understand yet not wanting to get into more details, "We wouldn't have made it out alive if it wasn't for you."

He sighed heavily. Yes, they'd made it out alive but that night had been one of the worst of his life. He'd crossed a line he could never uncross. Contemplatively looking down at the map before him, he absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against it.

"Yeah," he murmured shamefully, that moment slowly emerging from the depths he'd shoved it down.

A haunting taste of iron filled his mouth as the memory clouded before him. He swallowed thickly and blinked away the daze settling over him. That moment was not something he particularly enjoyed remembering.

Immediately picking up on his remorse, she quickly tried to assuage his guilt. "You saved us that night. Carl wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't done what you did. You saved us just like you always have."

"Somehow I don't think that compares," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze.

She tilted her head, looking at him compassionately. Here he sat feeling less than human for what he did, making him all the more human. For being so strong and resilient, he carried a lot of guilt on his shoulders. Though he'd done his best to keep them safe and alive, he didn't think it was enough. He wanted them safe yet wanted to protect them from suffering the unavoidable extremes surviving in this world required.

If this past year had taught her anything, it was that filtering out the bad was a luxury no person in this world could afford. Seeing the ugly, the evil people were capable of, was unavoidable. If avoiding _that_ was impossible, then comparing what they'd had to do to survive made no sense.

She reached out to still his hand with hers. "Then don't. Don't compare. Keeping each other alive, that wasn't something we had any control over. It was what it was. What matters is that we pulled through. We survived together."

She had a point. No matter what situation they found themselves in, they always made it out, together. Starving, threatened, lives hanging by a thread, they'd withstood it all.

After everything they'd suffered, this seemingly impossible challenge in front of them didn't seem quite so impossible. Their past would save them. They would make it to the other side. They had to. They still had a future to live out. Inspiration reignited his soul.

"You're right," he said abruptly, looking up at her, a new determination settling in his chest. He turned his hand over to clasp hers firmly. "We'll make it. We'll make it through this, too. We have to."

She nodded, searching his eyes determinedly, pride swelling in her chest. "We will."

The lantern lights glowed steadily, illuminating the two warriors, a renewed sense of purpose and peace filling the air. Together they would conquer the impossible, meet their fate. Together they would live to see another day.


	23. Day 23

**Day 23**

 **by dirtiebirdie17**

 **(find more of dirtiebirdie17's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Michonne pulled out a pair of Judith's freshly cleaned pajamas from the hamper and checked the tag, estimating that the toddler would outgrow them in another month or so. She couldn't believe how big Judith was getting, and observing their little girl learning to reach the various benchmarks of development was always one of the highlights of her day. Her thoughts, however, would inevitably drift back to the same moments she shared with Andre, and while she would never surrender the fight to keep the memory of his face vivid in her mind, picturing his smile simultaneously lifted her and shattered her.

A similar reaction had been occurring of late, whenever the faces of her fallen friends made an appearance in her daydreams. Folding baby clothes also reminded her of Maggie, of course, and with that, the searing images of that night from hell.

Desperate to distract herself from that nightmare, she examined the pattern of robots on the shirt, looking forward to the day when she'd be able to pass it on to little baby Rhee. 'This is perfect', she thought, having never been one for assigning colors to a specific gender. Robots, dinosaurs, fairies, and everything in between were for everyone, as far as she was concerned, especially in today's world.

Michonne reached in for another pair of PJ's, amused by this one's pattern of various woodland creatures dancing under trees, and chuckled slightly as she folded the one-piece and placed it atop the previous pair.

"What's so funny?" Rick asked as he approached her, bemused by her sudden change in demeanor.

She turned, startled but pleased by the unexpected disruption of silence. "Hey, how long have you been standing there?" she queried, suddenly self-conscious about having been observed unknowingly.

"Long enough to see you inhale my shirt," he confessed, curious to hear her response.

"Inhale? Really?" she smirked, hoping her feigned indignation would mask her mild embarrassment. The truth was, she had taken a sniff of his shirt, partly to ascertain if it had been cleaned thoroughly, but mostly because she needed the comfort of his scent. "Just doing a necessary smell check."

Rick made his way over to the couch, his lips turned slightly upward in what Michonne had come to accept as his smile, for now. Levity and calm were at a premium in the days and weeks following that harrowing night, so she was content with whatever scraps of happiness they could muster.

As he sat down next to her, she returned the faint smile, knowing her story had been both suspect and pathetically transparent.

"Uh, huh. Right," he replied, side-eyeing her as he placed his hand on her knee and gently massaged it with his thumb before pointing to the forest-themed set. "And these? What's so funny about them? I'm curious."

"I was laughing at the fact that you and Carl keep insisting on calling them 'footsies.'"

"So?" he asked, legitimately confused by her response. "That's what they're called. It's what we've always called them."

"I know. And it's adorable. Wrong. Inaccurate. But adorable." She leaned over to plant an affectionate, playful kiss on his cheek, sneaking in a twist of one of his curls.

"Footies," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. "The word you're looking for is footies."

"Ah," he smiled, this time fully, as he took out one of Carl's shirts and began to fold it. "I was close."

She smiled back, enjoying his company and this repartee more than she could ever express.

"Footsie is what I caught Carl and Enid doing the other night at dinner," she lied, curious to see how Rick would react.

He turned to her, flushed yet silent, doubting her claim, looking for her 'tell' that failed to appear. After a stare down, she finally caved, glancing upward before confessing.

"Yeah, I knew it," he stated proudly, continuing to fold more clothes. "You're a horrible liar."

"I know," she shrugged, unable to take her eyes of him. "But I guess there are worse things to be."

Rick nodded and smiled again just before a wave of guilt washed over him. Why did he have a right to these moments anymore? Did he deserve them? He needed an answer, but resigned himself to the fact that one would never come. He just had to live with it. The two allowed silence to dominate the air until Rick sought respite from his clouded, self-accusatory thoughts.

"Look at us," he said, as he tucked one of his socks into the other. "Sitting here on a Friday night folding laundry like an old married couple."

He cringed slightly as the sound of his words registered in his ears, and he could have sworn he detected her vaguely flinch before she paused, clearly hesitant to address him. When she realized the silence had grown uncomfortably awkward, she chimed in.

"Well you certainly have the old part down," she retorted, stroking the grey-speckled hairs in his face.

"Funny," was all he replied, before they settled back into their clothes-folding stupors. After a few more moments, he decided to test the waters, considering Pandora's box had been open, so to speak.

"You ever think about it?" he swallowed, suddenly nervous to hear her response, as if the question had been a proposal of sorts.

She eyed him curiously, trying to gauge whether his seemingly simple query was just that or fraught with more meaning.

"What? Marriage?"

"Yeah," he sighed, almost imperceptibly.

Michonne licked her lips, suddenly feeling dehydrated by the unexpected detour of topics. She was at a loss of how to proceed being completely unaware of how Rick felt about the matter.

"Before or now?" she questioned back, eyeing him intently, trying to get him to reveal something for her to work with.

"Chonne, I'm not proposing. I just want to know what you think about it, if you do at all."

She tilted her head and briefly closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before addressing him.

"Rick," she took his hand and squeezed, peering into the blue depths of his still-wounded, fragile eyes. "You, Carl, and Judith. That's all I think about. That's all that matters. I don't need any label or title or ceremony to prove it."

"I know," he replied, exhaling a breath he seemed to have been holding in for days. "I feel the same way."

"I'm with you. I'll never stop being with you. And we're going to get through this together, like we always have before."

"I'm with you, too," he professed.

Michonne leaned into him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, their foreheads touching as the heat from their breaths warmed the other, both basking in the hope that had suddenly cut through the bleakness occupying the air around them for weeks.

"I love you," he whispered, gently stroking her cheek. "You know that right?"

"I do," she whispered back, oblivious to the tears that had snaked their way down her face. "And you know I love you?"

"I do."


	24. Day 24

**Day 24**

 **by bigunknownkingdom**

 **(find more of bigunknownkingdom's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

Michonne watched a couple of Alexandrians walk by quietly, offering them a small smile after they waved as she rocked back and forth on the porch with Judith in her arms. Inside, she could hear Rick and Carl moving around the kitchen, getting dinner ready. Judith woke up suddenly from her nap, squirming and whimpering and immediately Michonne pulled her closer, recognizing the aftereffects of a nightmare.

"Shhh," she cooed soothingly, running a hand up and down Judith's back as she leaned back to look at the little girl's face. "You're okay."

When Judith continued to cry, Michonne sighed and stood up, glancing quickly inside the house before she walked off the porch. She had spent most of the day going through the plans once again and could use the walk.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Michonne asked quietly as she moved along the pavement. Judith nodded into her shoulder, sniffling and mumbling incoherently, clearly still distressed. "I know they're scary… I still get them sometimes. Was it monsters like last time?"

Judith nodded.

"A big, scary monster?" Michonne inquired and Judith shook her head, raising her hands to indicate something smaller. "A small monster?"

"Hi Michonne!"

Michonne gave a curt nod to the passerby as she continued along the wall, gently rocking Judith in her arms. While she traveled up the road, her mind wandered and she found herself sharing with the child, who became still the longer Michonne spoke.

"I used to have a small monster in my house," she muttered, catching Judith's eyes. Smiling weakly, Michonne took a deep breath and continued, "Well, more like a little imp. Now, I remember back in the day, before all of this, I used to watch these movies… scary movies and I loved them." She shifting Judith in her arms so that she was resting on her hip. "I'd make popcorn and watch two or three on the weekend if we didn't go out. It took me a little while to figure out, but these movies were apparently magic." Judith's eyes widened and Michonne grinned. "Yes… magic, because I would watch these movies at night and they would summon this small, sleeping creature from its den and it would spy on me and watch the movies behind my back." Michonne sniffed, suddenly overcome by the emotions that accompanied those memories. "He also stole my popcorn…"

When she drifted off into silence, Judith furrowed her tiny brows, noticing the far away look in her mother's eyes. In an attempt to get her attention, the little girl shook Michonne's shoulder, gurgling and trying to call her.

"Mama," she managed, so softly that Michonne froze suddenly, eyes wide and breath caught in her throat. Seemingly satisfied with getting Michonne's attention, Judith began babbling to indicate that she wanted her to continue with her story, but Michonne's could no longer hear her. Her mind swirled with that one word and after another moment, she reached up to take Judith's hand, desperate to confirm that she had in fact heard what she believed she did.

"Judith, what did you just say?" She asked and strangely enough, Judith understood exactly what she was asking.

"Mama," she responded confidently, as if she had been practicing that word in particular. Michonne's heart swelled and her eyes filled with tears. She pulled her daughter into a loving embrace, unable to say anything else.

* * *

When Michonne returned to their home with Judith, Rick stood at the stove, stirring something aromatic on the stove. He smiled as they came into the kitchen and observed her place Judith in her chair at the table, warmed by the sight of Michonne giving the girl a loving peck on the temple.

"Good walk?"

She walked over to him and leaned over to see what was in the pot, nodding pensively. He took notice and queried, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah… where's Carl?"

Rick motioned towards the stairs. "He spilled some sauce on his shirt."

Michonne ran her fingers up his arm absentmindedly before she turned to go upstairs. "Thanks."

She could feel Rick's eyes on her as she left, but she needed to talk with Carl first before she disclosed what had happened with Judith to him. Reaching the top of the landing, she knocked on his door and waited patiently for Carl to emerge in a clean black t-shirt.

"Hey. Is dinner ready?" He asked and she shook her head, motioning into his room.

"Can I come in?"

He nodded and watched her go to sit down on his bed, a strange look on her face.

"What's wrong?"

Michonne took a deep breath and looked into his eye. "Have you been teaching Judith any new words?"

She got her answer silently from the brief realization on his face before he shrugged and lowered his gaze to his shoes.

"I have."

She watched him for a moment. "Why?"

He looked more shocked by this question than the first. "Because you're her mom," he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, causing Michonne's heart to constrict painfully.

"Carl," she gasped and he went over to sit next to her.

"I mean… when she's older I'm gonna tell her about our mom… Lori…" He shrugged again. "She should know about her, but you. Michonne, you're the only mom she's ever gonna know." Before he could continue, she pulled him into a crushing hug, breathing rapidly as she tried not to cry.

"I love you," she whispered and he tightened his grip around her.

"I love you too."

A creak in the floor drew their attention to the door and they saw Rick leaning against the doorjamb, his tender gaze betraying his eavesdropping. Michonne watched him slowly come over and squat down in front of them, resting a hand on hers and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Carl's right," he whispered, catching Carl's eye. "We'll tell Judith about Lori when the time comes for her to properly understand… but you are Judith's mother…" His mind briefly flashed to Lori and he breathed slowly, bringing her fingers up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her skin. "And she loves you, just like I do."

Michonne's eyes filled with tears and she reached out to touch his cheek. "Rick," she murmured and he smiled, leaning up to brush his lips against hers softly. In that moment, she felt more sure than anything about the life they would live together. The family they had. The love they shared. "Thank you."


	25. Day 25

**Day 25**

 **by blacklitchick**

 **(find more of blacklitchick's writing under our favorite authors or check out her tumblr page)**

* * *

"Michonne?"

"Yeah?"

Rick heard the faucet shut off and the sound of the bathroom drawers opening and closing. "Just making sure you didn't fall into a hole in there."

Michonne chuckled. "I'll be out in a minute."

He looked over at the clock on the nightstand. "You said that five minutes ago."

"Well, I really did mean it five minutes ago, but you can't rush good hygiene."

He laughed. "OK, baby." He turned down the covers on their bed then took a seat on her side. He scratched at his bare chest and adjusted the band on his pajama bottoms as he waited. He didn't like getting into bed without her. Laying there didn't feel right unless she was by his side.

Closer to five than one minute later, the door opened and Michonne appeared at the threshold that separated their bedroom from the bathroom. She posed against the doorjamb as she watched him watching her.

"So what do you think?" She asked. Locs cascaded over one shoulder; hands on her hips as she did a slow turn and looked back over her shoulder at him.

His eyes traveled down her body; from his denim shirt hanging loose and sexy on her torso to her beautiful legs on full display. He let out a low whistle. "You look a helluva lot better in that shirt than I ever do. But then again you could make a sack look beautiful."

Michonne ducked her head and smiled before lifting it again. "Bet you say that to all the ladies," she teased

"Uh uh. You're the only lady I have eyes for. The only one I'd ever want. Nobody compares to you." The sincerity and love in his voice couldn't be mistaken.

She walked over to where he sat with a little more sultriness in her step. He had a way of making her feel like the sexiest woman left on the planet. His hands immediately clasped her waist when she stood before him.

"So does that mean I can keep the shirt?" She asked.

Rick scoffed and gave her a playful swat on the behind followed by a gentle squeeze. "I didn't say all that. I only have about six shirts to my name."

"Keep doing that and the floor will be wearing this shirt soon," she said suggestively.

He raised his eyebrow and grinned. "Is that right?

"Mmhmm," she said. "But only if I can keep the shirt."

"You drive a hard bargain."

Michonne shrugged. "You can always get more shirts. I can probably find you one or two when I go out on the run with Tara tomorrow."

The smile dropped from Rick's face as his lips formed a straight line. "Yeah."

Her hands found his hair as she gently tugged at his curls. She knew how much the gesture soothed him. "What's wrong, babe?" She asked even though the worry in his eyes made clear what he was thinking.

He closed his eyes, reveling in her touch. "Just hate you having to go out there without me. With him still roaming around out there."

"Negan's not going to do anything to us right now. He thinks we're firmly under his thumb."

Rick's hands moved to her legs; traveling up and down the back of her thighs. "The plan's gonna work, right?" He looked up at her needing to hear the words from her mouth.

"It's going to work."

"How do you know for sure?"

She smiled brightly and winked. "Because I believe in Rick Grimes."

Rick smirked. "I don't know why. I hear he's a real asshole."

Michonne laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think you've been hearing false rumors because he's the greatest man I know."

He shook his head in disbelief. "What did I ever do to deserve you? You're amazing."

She bent down and kissed him softly on the lips. "You bring out the best in me."

"I wouldn't have made it this far without you," he said. "And I know we can't put an end to this Negan nightmare without you. You're the key to everythang."

"Then you have nothing to worry about because I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

Michonne made a criss-cross motion across her chest. "Cross my heart."

He gripped her waist tighter. "But don't hope to die."

"Never. We don't die."

"You keep saying that," he said. "I'm gonna be kinda mad if that's not true." His tone was lighthearted, but she could sense the real fear he had of losing her underneath.

She straddled his lap and cocked her head to the side. "You really think there's anything that's going to stop me from spending a lifetime with you?"

"I guess you're stuck with me then."

"Forever and a day," she whispered in his ear.

Rick's lips came crashing down on hers. Sighs and moans filled the room as they succumbed to their need for each other. He laid back on the bed, pulling her down with him. A swift and well-practiced motion of flipping her onto her back preceded him covering her body with his own. Nimble fingers worked at unbuttoning the denim shirt. He moaned into her mouth at the first feel of her bare breasts in his hand.

He had to reluctantly break the kiss as the need to breathe overrode his desire to never stop kissing her. Their chests moved at a rapid pace. Eyes locked together and told the story of what they meant to each other. One hand caressed her hip; the other's thumb brushed across her lips.

"We're going to win," she said to him with conviction.

His stare held steady with all the intensity and fire she knew was within him. There was no doubt in her mind his fight was back as he nodded slowly. "We will."


End file.
